


Msg. No. 57

by plotholes_ahead



Category: Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: Thrawn Ascendancy Trilogy - Timothy Zahn, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Birthday Celebrations, Chiss Politics (Star Wars), Ezra’s just trying not to get friend zoned again, F/M, Family Drama, Fourth Sight, Friends to Lovers, How Did All This Plot Get In Here, Idiots in Love, JUST KISS ALREADY, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining, Roommates, Second Sight - Freeform, Slow Burn, THRASS LIVES, The Force, Third Sight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 53,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26638879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plotholes_ahead/pseuds/plotholes_ahead
Summary: Aboard his borrowed CDF shuttle, with only his entranced sky-walker for company, Eli’van’to sends yet another message to his former CO and the current MIA Grand Admiral.
Relationships: Ar'alani & Eli Vanto, Ezra Bridger & Eli Vanto, Ezra Bridger & Un'hee, Ezra Bridger/Vah’nya, Thrass | Mitth'ras'safis/Thalias | Mitth'ali'astov, Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Eli Vanto, Un'hee & Eli Vanto
Comments: 190
Kudos: 136





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a random drabble of Eli trying to get a message to Thrawn post-Rebels. I mean, it still is, just a little wordier. I have no massive plans for this, just some small ideas, so we’ll see if it goes anywhere : )

  
  
Eli’van’to regarded his meager surroundings, taking in the swirling blue tunnel out the viewport and their ship’s tiny cabin, littered with what his navigator deemed as “his mess.” This small shuttle was not quite what Eli had in mind when Ar’alani had loaned him a vessel and a single sky-walker to scour the outskirts of the Ascendancy for Mitth’raw’nuruodo, but he was grateful nonetheless. 

He’d done very little for the past week or so, pouring over starcharts and scrolling through data he’d all but memorized. There was nothing new. There _had been_ nothing new for weeks, which was why their current trajectory had them headed back home. Well, as close to home as anywhere could feel nowadays. 

The lieutenant commander leaned back in his chair, slowly swiveling right and left as he stared at the green flashing transmitter, indicating the device's readiness. He threw a sidelong glance at the young girl seated at the helm, head bowed, unseeing and presumably unhearing. They’d arrive within the hour so he’d better get a move on in case this proved… difficult. 

He keyed the comm and waited for the solid emerald light to appear. Ignoring how the pace of his heart quickened slightly, he opened his mouth to breath in an unsteady inhale and began. 

_Hey._

His voice was hoarse, his throat dry from speaking to no one for hours. 

_It’s me._

Realizing Thrawn might not recognize his voice, or perhaps not even remember who “me” was he added,

_It’s Eli._

_Vanto._

The human ran a shaky hand through his hair, the familiar nervousness and associated sensations coursing through him as though this was the first time. He lowered his hands and felt them tremble against his thighs. They always did that when he sent these messages, his body on edge; in case it worked this time. He gripped his hands tightly in his lap to stop them from shaking. 

_I, um…_

He sighed, swallowing hard. Half the time these messages turned into random ramblings. He’d make an effort to keep this one on track, but his objective was always just to keep the connection open for a few minutes in case there was any live activity. 

_I kinda start all of these the same, just in case the others don’t reach you._

There was no reply; only the crackling of static which filled the silence. He spoke in Basic. Many residents of the Unknown Regions did not speak Basic. Therefore if the message was intercepted, it would likely be understood only by adrift travelers, some merchant traders, Thrawn himself, or perhaps even any surviving crew of Eli’s old ship. 

_The Ascendancy is lookin’ for you. I’m supposed to find you and... bring you back to Chiss space._

He’d repeated himself so many times the words came out in monotone. There was more to it than that, of course. After hearing the devastating news of the _Chimaera’s_ fate, Ar’alani had docked the _Steadfast_ and spent weeks scattering surveillance and even people across their territories and further. They met with allies and stopped at each forward base throughout the Ascendancy just to get the word out. She’d requested that Eli accompany her, although he was convinced it had been more for his benefit than hers. After a time there was nothing more they could do; they were needed back at HQ. But every so often Ar’alani sent Eli back out, just to check on things. 

_It’s been…_

Eli glimpsed the cycle tracker, fleetingly though, as it held no reassurance or comfort. It was pointless, anyway. He already knew how long it’d been. He tried not to let it weigh on his heart, but the despair and hopelessness grew with each passing day. 

_Too long._

He scoffed at himself. “Too long” was not a unit of time or measure and therefore useless to Thrawn, but speaking the truth out loud proved too high an expectation so he settled for:

_I think this is message 57._

Also a known fact that needed no estimation. 

_Anyway, I’m sendin’ this to your last comm channel because well… I don’t know where else to send it._

Not a single message had been reported as received from this frequency. But the channel was still active so Eli held on to that small sliver of hope. 

_Um… they’re callin’ me back in… again._

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the young girl twitch in her seat, just a subtle shift in course to dodge an asteroid or debris and guide them safely through the Chaos. Nothing alarming. Eli glanced out the viewport at the mottled starlines wondering if, at this very moment, Un’hee was steering them past the planet, moon, asteroid field, or even ship that Thrawn might be on. If he was even… 

Eli snapped his attention back to the message. 

_The Syndicure, not the admiral. In fact, she sanctions these outings. And she uh… made a pretty convincing case for me to stay in the Ascendancy. If… if I wanted to. Which…_

He trailed off, his thoughts centering on the family and friends he’d left behind when he’d set course for the _Steadfast._ His friends, well, they’d mostly been on the _Chimaera_ , and his family was probably safer if he stayed away after everything, anyway. So really he had no viable reason not to stay. 

_Which I do, it’s just…_

You’re supposed to be here. 

He breathed in again. Was this foolish? Talking to… no one? Would Thrawn even get this? But Ar’alani had asked him to keep trying, which he found motivating and prevented him from losing faith. Perhaps she knew that. Perhaps she knew more than that. 

_Anyway, if this finds you… an emergency frequency will send a message to fleet HQ._

And also my personal device. 

_It’ll also transmit your coordinates so just… if you get this… let us know, will ya? And then just… stay put._

Eli didn’t believe in Gods or deities. Being a man of science and hard data, he wasn’t even sure he considered himself a spiritual person, but if he chose to believe in anything…

_Listen, I know you’re out there._

He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. Thankfully, Un’hee was deep in her trance and was not conscious enough to pry curiously into his thoughts or question why his face and eyes were lit up in the infrared with blotchy heat. Adore her, he may, but she had a knack for _observing_ things about him that oftentimes proved... inconvenient. 

They’d become close ever since he’d first met the young girl… standing beside Thrawn on that damned observation post. And just like that, memories of his time with Thrawn, an entire decade of his life, seeped to the forefront of his mind and flashed rapidly across it like study cards. The memories shifted and transformed into a kaleidoscope of dream and nightmare material alike, twisting reality and sprinkling it with fear and doubt. The dreams and nightmares molded together until there was no distinction between the two. There was only a hastened heartbeat, shallow breathing and the crushing weight of loss and longing, all interwoven with half smiles and quiet chuckles and kind words that made his palms sweat and brought heat to his cheeks. 

And then he recalled something Thrawn had said to him once. 

He closed his eyes and let it play in his mind, let it calm his racing heart and steady his erratic breathing. It had been something obscure in the moment that either confused or meant little to him then but now… he was soothed by the memory.

_We’re gonna find you. They may call me back… but I won’t stop lookin’._

The last part streamed from his lips in an urgent, hushed tone. He took a moment to regain his composure before he spoke again. He could not permit himself an emotional pardon, not even a careless slip. If Thrawn ever received this message, it would elicit very little effort on his part to catch the subtle shift of Eli’s voice, his throat muscles constricting with the effort of keeping his emotions at bay. And Thrawn wouldn’t understand. In fact, it would be incredibly unfair to him, for Eli to unload years of yearning and devotion upon an unexpecting and more than likely unagreeable man. It would be better to explain in person, if he ever worked up the nerve and should he ever be granted that chance. 

_Your brother says hi, by the way. He’s doin’ just fine._

He changed the subject, referring to Thrawn's elder brother who had become a close friend of his over the last few months. 

_I mean, he’s still a pompous ass, but… well, you know how he is. I’m still curious why you never mentioned him, but then again… I guess I get it._

He let out a small huff of a laugh; he was rambling again. There was nothing left to do but sign off. 

_Well… I guess that’s it for this one._

His hand brushed lightly over the bound journal that had first belonged to his friend on its way to end the transmission. His heart thudded against his chest and his stomach churned with high-pitched anticipation, as it always did when he moved to hang up. 

_May warriors fortune guide you safely home. Vanto, out._

His hand hovered over the push button for a moment. 

And another.

Each time he had to cut the connection he waited a bit longer, hoping that this time someone would respond. He always had this feeling, a fear rather, that as he was hanging up he’d receive a reply, and miss it. 

So he waited. 

Perhaps it was because he’d never gotten the chance to tell him how he felt. The fear of that chance being shattered by a premature disconnection was always the worst part about these messages. He regretted uttering nothing by way of a confession when he had first been sent here, and again when he held his tongue during the Grysk skirmish, and again when he refused to meet with Thrawn at the end of the battle. 

Coward.

And now…

Perhaps that was why he was still searching. To finally bury this cancerous regret, to cast his truth out into the light so he wouldn’t have to question day after day… if living like this… 

It was not what Thrawn had intended for him. He was sure of it.

And so he refused to believe it was too late. 

He _expected_ to hear him, every time, wishing his voice into existence, waiting with bated breath for him to say in that calm, measured tone...

“Hello, Eli.”

He blinked —

— his breath hitching in his throat as he failed to subdue the small gasp —

And shook himself out of it. 

It was always his name, never his rank, that he imagined. 

With needless force he deactivated the transmitter with a slap of his palm and strode away from the device, and the journal, and the undelivered message. 

Again. 

  


//

Beneath a small mound of moist sand, desperately aching to be seen through the tiny grains, the blinking light of an Imperial comm device indicated that a new message had been received. 

Well-worn, rugged brown travel boots with a monarch orange strap adorning the dorsum trudged through the sand to stop directly above the flashing light. Their owner peered closely at the signal, unconvinced that their eyes weren't deceiving them. 

The planet was derelict and abandoned, aside from its marooned inhabitants and the massive wreckage of a huge warship jutting up from the indigo waters. Unfortunately that means of transport, with its blown out viewport and either destroyed or salvaged innards, had ceased to prove useful for weeks.

Vivid blue eyes took one last look at what was left of the ISD Chimaera and then turned their hopeful gaze to the washed-ashore comm device. The ruined ship was of little consequence now, for another solution had presented itself.

  


  



	2. Chapter 2

The highly anticipated emergency signal sounded throughout the conference room during an assembly of the _Steadfast’s_ senior bridge crew, and Eli.

Since the decision-making members were already present, the conversation easily transitioned from the usual mundane topics to the most exciting thing that had happened in three months. Eli’s heart had begun racing the moment his personal comm had vibrated against his hip and now he sat fidgeting with a loose thread of his tunic, restlessly tapping his foot on the sleek tile below his feet. He knew he didn’t appear ‘cool, calm, and collected,’ but he couldn’t help it. How could they all just sit here and stall and plan and replan? It was time to act.

He struggled to keep from rolling his eyes when someone suggested they contact the Syndicure before they do anything; it was all he could do not to jump up and sprint from the room. Ar’alani shot him a stern look and his foot ceased its tapping. He took a deep breath in a futile attempt to relax the gripping tension in his shoulders. Surely she understood his restlessness. She’d never explicitly said she knew why Eli had persisted for so long to find Thrawn, much less her acceptance of what it possibly alluded to, but Eli had long since assumed she suspected something. 

“You’re staying on board the _Steadfast_ , Lieutenant Commander,” she said to him after she’d given her final orders and everyone had filed from the room. He’d half expected something like this, and had already prepared a list of calculated responses while the others had been in debate over which shuttle would fetch Thrawn. He calmly tried to reason with her. 

“Ma’am,” he began as he followed her out into the corridor. “I feel it would be immensely beneficial to have me on board-”

“Of course you do.”

“The reports say,” Eli pressed. “A human…” he swallowed. A troublesome, destructive, rumored kid-Jedi... “boy could’ve been with him. It’s highly unlikely that he speaks Cheunh-”

Ar’alani stopped and turned a humorous look on him. He resisted the urge to scowl. How was this amusing?

“Are you saying you wish to play translator?” 

He cringed. It wasn’t something he necessarily _wanted_ to do, but it was something he’d always excelled at and right now it was his best chance. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

She huffed derisively and continued on down the hall.

So was that a yes? 

“And is there a reason you believe Thrawn himself isn’t up to the task?” she asked coolly. 

Eli swallowed as he moved quickly to keep up with her confident pace. “It’s possible they’ve been separated, Admiral.”

Ar’alani eyed him appraisingly out of the corner of her eye. “So you’ve considered the possibility that it was not Thrawn who responded?”

No, he hadn’t truly considered it because he refused to, but if it would get him on the ground team…

“Or even the human boy?” Ar’alani added, as if gently prodding for an answer. 

Eli kept silent. He didn’t dare lie to her.

“I thought not.”

“Admiral,” he tried again. “If it’s not them, then you’re right - there’s no point in me being there. But if it’s a human, or an Imperial, especially-”

“Your point, Commander.”

Eli took a breath. “A Chiss is not the first face a human should see upon arriving in this region, ma’am.”

She stopped and spun to face him, regal and proud in her presentation. “Because the lesser galaxy fears us?”

Eli made a face. Despite hitting the nail on the head, the human opened his mouth to try and explain to her that humans were not “lesser,” but that statement seemed oddly self-serving so he chose to remain silent. 

When Eli had no rebuttal, she continued. “Let me make this clear, Commander. If there are any outsiders accompanying Thrawn, they are not our objective. We are not going to make friends. We are to find Thrawn and return him home. That is it. Nothing more. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Admiral,” Eli said reflexively. “But if they are hostile or combative-”

“Combative?” She gave a small snort. “Are you suggesting that our elite warriors will find issue in handling a group of ship-wrecked stragglers?”

“Ma’am, I just,” he took a calming breath. Then he got an idea, recalling his very earliest memory of Thrawn.

“If Thrawn views the ground team as adversaries,” Eli said, changing tactics. “Do you think they would stand a chance against him if he aimed to take them out? Perhaps someone he… knows… could deter him.” 

She seemed to rethink her previous decision. When she spoke, her words were slow and controlled, sounding oddly unsure of her own deduction. “He would not attack his own people.”

“They sent him to exile-”

She held up a silencing hand and Eli knew when to stop pushing. 

“Enough, Commander.” Her eyes went distant as she processed his words. He waited, daring to hope. Then she straightened, meeting his eyes with a sturdy and assured gaze. “You have made your point. You may accompany the team, but you will stay clear of Thrawn until you are summoned. You are there as a translator to this boy. Not as an old friend of Thrawn’s,” her voice softened. “No matter how true that sentiment may be.”

She hesitated before she said the word ‘sentiment,’ but Eli ignored it, sighing in relief. At least he was going. “Yes ma’am.”

She searched him over, taking in his black CDF uniform and shoulder patch representing the Ascendancy in its entirety. He stood straighter out of reflex to avoid wilting under her scrutiny.

“And you are prepared for what we might find down there?” A single, thin eyebrow arched upward. “Or perhaps what we won’t?”

Another, albeit somewhat shaky reply, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Very well. Pack your bag, Commander,” she told him with a grin just shy of pleasant. “And let us pray that Mitth’raw’nuruodo does not do anything foolhardy.”

The Admiral turned and strode purposefully down the corridor, the sound of her boots on the tile echoing until she rounded a corner. Eli pulled his questis from his belt and snuck a quick message; he’d promised the Syndic he’d inform him if he’d learned anything noteworthy. The possible rescue of Thrawn was definitely noteworthy.

//

Eli’van’to walked along a jagged cliffside toward a tall man with blue skin. The man stood beside an officer Eli had never met before and a young man: the Jedi. He was sure that’s who it was. There were others in the background but his focus remained fixed on the blue-skinned man with angular features and glowing crimson eyes. A face he’d known so well at one point, memorized even. Now it felt practically foreign to him. 

Those eyes met his over the young man’s shoulder and the nerves nearly froze him in place. Eli’s feet carried him the rest of the way and suddenly it was just the two of them, equally alone and exposed for their reunion to be played out before everyone, but Eli was past caring. Too many uncertainties had plagued him since he’d left Thrawn’s side, too many cycles had come and gone without so much as a whisper, too many things had been left unsaid and Thrawn had finally returned, to give Eli a chance to right all those wrongs. 

“Sir,” he said breathlessly, unable to stop the corner of his lips from curving up in a relieved grin. “We were so glad to finally hear from you. When we heard the news, the Admiral-”

The Chiss’s expression was polite and curious while he spoke, but an uncomfortable prickling stirred in the pit of Eli’s stomach and he trailed off. Thrawn spoke then, after patiently waiting to be sure he was finished, ever the gentleman. 

“My apologies,” he said in a soft, accented tone. “Have we met?” 

Eli’s stomach dropped as a sickening wave crashed over him, stealing his breath and making his blood run cold. 

How could Thrawn not recognize him… when he was the first thing on Eli’s mind when he woke, and the last thought before closing his eyes for sleep. 

_Have we met?_

All his fears amplified, a cold hand splaying out to cover his frantically beating heart. Before him stood the man he’d sacrificed everything for, the man he’d learned from, respected and admired, the man he’d fallen in love with so many times there was no pinpointing the exact moment it had happened. The hand around his heart closed in a vice-like grip. 

He stumbled backwards, muttering an apology like a fool; like he’d done this, like this was his fault. One misstep and he tripped over the edge of the cliff and fell…

_Have we met?_

And fell…

Eli woke in a dark room. He sat bolt upright in his bed, legs tangled in the soft blankets. His nose and throat burned with each gulp of air and his moist brown eyes raked the room in an attempt to get his bearings. He was in his quarters, on the _Steadfast,_ on their way to retrieve Thrawn, but consciousness and clarity made his fear no less real. The onslaught of emotions returned, sharp and fresh and debilitating. 

Thrawn hadn’t remembered him.

Another wave of nausea rolled through him and he swallowed back the bile and heartache before slowly lowering his head back down to his pillow. Draping an arm across his face, he shut his eyes to stop the tears from leaking out. He breathed slowly. 

_It wasn’t real._

He settled in for a few more hours of tense solitude, his body on edge and his mind a chaotic whirlwind. He gave up any expectation of falling back asleep, not with this crippling anxiety still haunting him. 

“No,” he whispered into the silence. He’d long since determined that begging for things was futile. He repeated, “No.” 

That was not his reality, at least not yet, and he refused to allow his nightmares to make a fool of him. So he said it with conviction and an odd sort of stubborn finality. 

Thrawn would remember him, and he would be there when they arrived at the transmitted coordinates. 

He had to be.

//

The fire flickered and popped loudly in the silence, hot flames licking the black night sky, each bright pinprick of light from above more disappointing than the next when they made no move to swoop down and save them. His nightly meditation had proven ineffective, again. Kanan, Ahsoka, the old man in the desert; he’d been unable to make even the slightest connection to anyone, lost or living. 

He shook his head, letting it fall heavily into his palms. Not lost, he chided himself for the third time tonight; the Force ensured that complete loss of another being was impossible. But the Force, it seemed, had abandoned him. He’d felt the void ever since the “incident,” the one that had left the Chimaera in a heap of smoking debris, the one where he had presumably killed hundreds of Imperials, the one he had not expected to survive. 

At first he thought maybe he’d just overexerted himself, expending an unquantifiable amount of Force energy when he’d held Thrawn against the viewport as they careened through purrgil-assisted hyperspace. But he knew that wasn’t how the Force worked. In fact, he was beginning to worry that it might be something more complicated, something that would take much more time to overcome. 

“You ok there?” the woman beside him asked.

He raised his head from his hands, blinking his blurred vision clear again. 

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Just tired.” 

She nodded, eyeing him warily before drawing her own focus back to the fire. The sound of the discovered recording could be heard in the distance. A human voice repeated itself for the umpteenth time while Thrawn sat hunched over on a log, listening in rapt attention like it was the first time he was hearing it.

Ezra scooted closer to the fire and nudged a log with his boot. “So who is he?”

The woman, Commander Hammerly Thrawn had called her, blinked at him. 

“Eli Vanto… who is he?” Ezra clarified with a quick glance toward their Chiss counterpart five yards away. 

Hammerly smirked and tucked away a piece of her hair blowing in the breeze. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Ok,” he muttered, slightly miffed. “They sounded close, though,” he pressed. “Judging by what he was saying.”

Or more like _how_ he was saying what he was saying. 

The woman shrugged. “The crew used to think so, too. But then he disappeared, and Thrawn never said a word. Lots of theories circled around the ship. Some good, some bad, some absolutely terrifying. And then he showed up again. Eli, I mean. As part of the Chiss military.”

“Interesting,” Ezra said, although not really interested. What did he care about the drama of Imperial officers? “So what’s the likelihood that they’ll come for us?”

Her smirk softened to an affectionate grin. “If it’s Eli we’re talking about?” Her eyes lit up with something he didn’t understand. “Pretty high.”

He huffed, unconvinced. “Wonderful.” 

“Don’t sound so thrilled about being rescued,” she told him sarcastically. 

Ezra shrugged. “I’d just feel better if it weren’t _his_ people coming to get us.”

The woman glared at him. “What is it with you?”

He started at her hardened tone but met her narrowed gaze. “Out here we’re all each other has. This isn’t pleasant for anyone. Not to mention this is your fault-”

“My fault?!”

“-and we’re not trying to off you for stranding us here,” she finished. “Be grateful to whoever rescues us, and be even more grateful that Thrawn doesn’t tie you to a tree and leave you here.”

The young man rolled his eyes. “He wouldn't do that.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” she snapped. “Because he’s a good man. But after what you did to us… actually, that sounds like something you might do.” 

The image of him pinning Thrawn against the bulkhead of a dying warship flashed across his mind. He looked at her with fury in his blue eyes. She had no idea what he’d lost because of their precious Empire. 

“You know what I think?” she said, squinting at him. “I think things wouldn’t be half as bad for you if you‘d stop resisting all of us, and this situation. It sucks for all of us.”

Half as bad?! They were marooned on an island. How much worse could it get? 

The night sky cracked open with a jagged line of blinding light in the distance. 

_Great._

“We’re in this together,” she added. “Whether _we_ asked for it or not.”

He tried to tamp down the guilt that bubbled in his chest. So he’d condemned them all, he got it. She didn’t have to keep reminding him. He was frustrated with enough things lately. Himself mostly.

But this wasn’t a conversation he felt like continuing, especially with someone who would never understand. So he stalked to the water's edge, watching the waves increase as the wind picked up. 

Thrawn called to Hammerly in some language Ezra didn’t know. It was like they were speaking in code, which irritated him even more if that were possible. He knelt in the sand as the others moved off the beach and up to dry shelter, past the tree line. The sky opened up and released an earsplitting thunderclap. 

_Resistance._ Hammerly had said.

Maybe there was something to that. He closed his eyes, calling on the peace that continually eluded him, as the first drops of water bounced off the top of his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know how it happened, but my hand slipped and suddenly the last chapter of this is written so! … eventually it’ll all be posted. I could’ve taken it in a couple different directions, but it turned into a basket of fluff so that’s where we’re headed. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

The empty shuttle was freezing, but Eli had been here long enough that the heat from his body had either warmed the panels on which he sat, or he was numb. Either way, he sat unbothered, legs crossed and elbows propped up on his knees, staring at his questis as he monitored their progress. The lag time between their ships location in real time and what his device showed was quite significant. Navigator adjustments were difficult to track through hyperspace, so he’d learn to operate under the general assumption that his instruments were about three minutes behind. 

The likelihood that they would encounter solar storms and sporadic gravity wells across their vector was minimal, but he nevertheless felt it necessary to continually check. He knew it was pointless and arbitrary, because Mi’yaric had everything under control, but it seemed to ease his anxious mind. At least it was better than sitting alone in his quarters where his anxiety was free to wander and stew and multiply. He checked the timetable again. They should arrive in…

“Oh,” came a startled female voice from the hatch. A young Chiss woman dressed in a CDF uniform stood in the doorway. “Are you… authorized to be in here?” 

It wasn’t exactly a rude question and Eli had grown used to people questioning him, even now. It didn’t irritate him any less but he understood their apprehension. More than likely she was just worried that she’d be blamed if he was caught some place he ought not be. 

Eli, in his current state, almost responded with an exhausted ‘Excuse me?’ But years among the Chiss had taught him to observe, analyze, and _then_ speak. Which allowed him to notice her lieutenant pilot's insignia plaque. So she wasn’t just being nosy. He supposed it was gracious of her not to just tell him to bug off. 

He sat straighter for a moment, just tall enough to give her a glimpse of his rank badge. Not arrogant; confident. 

“Ah,” she said in understanding, crossing her arms and leaning casually against the bulkhead. 

He gave her a small smile before returning to his intense study of his device. 

“I suppose I’m outranked then,” she said. 

“I suppose so,” Eli muttered. 

“Except… this is my ship.”

He looked up at her, waiting patiently for her to continue. Clearly she had more to say about his unexpected presence. 

She waved her hand around the space as if to indicate. “I mean, it’s fine if you want to hang out here. I just wasn’t expecting someone to hide out in my shuttle, but I can work around you. As long as my being productive isn’t going to bother you-” 

“Would you like me to leave?” 

She paused for a brief moment, then let out a small huff, knowing full well that wasn’t something she could ask of him. 

She leaned curiously forward, straining with narrowed eyes to catch sight of the starchart mapping their route on his questis. He didn’t mind and wasn’t embarrassed. Finding Thrawn was a critical mission for the CDF and the Admiral. It wasn’t suspicious that he’d want to ensure its success in the most efficient way possible. 

“You checkin’ the weather?”

Eli eyed her from his spot on the floor, but remained silent. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to chat, but she didn’t seem to get the hint. 

“I knew him, you know.”

He started. “Pardon?”

She nodded toward his device as if it carried some link to the former Senior Captain. “Thrawn. He um…” she looked around the cabin, taking in the entire structure almost reverently. Her voice grew softer in remembrance. “He taught me to fly.”

Eli’s eyebrows twitched in surprise. It seemed like ancient history, the fact that Thrawn had had a life before the Empire. Acquaintances, family, aspirations, triumphs, failures. It was strange to think that these people knew Thrawn before Eli had. How many lives had he touched before his? 

Her distant gaze scanned over every surface of the cabin as if they each held a fond memory. She absentmindedly plucked an object from her tightly coiled hair and began twirling it between her fingers as she strode closer to where he sat. He recognized it as a graph marker and deduced with mild curiosity that she must be an artist. 

“Back when I served as a navigator,” she added. “It’s Eli’van’to, right?” She took a seat on the bench across from him. “Sorry, _Lieutenant Commander_ Eli’van’to?”

He chuckled and with a small shake of his head, conceded. “Just call me Eli.”

The pilot grinned back. She appeared much the same as any other female warrior, maybe a tad shorter, but projected an openness he didn’t often see in Chiss, especially those who had once been sky-walkers. Most ex-navigators held a kind of bitter resentment toward others. This one did not. There was a softness to her species' usual rigid confidence. Perhaps she had been accepted or understood where the others hadn’t. Or maybe she’d been shown more kindness. Whatever the reason, this former sky-walker was different. 

“You two were friends, huh?” she asked, interjecting into his thoughts.

Had they been? Eli had never been quite sure. Friends was a loaded term. In regards to Thrawn, especially. 

“I’d like to think so.”

She laughed, so unexpected that he jumped. “I suppose we all do.” Her smile faded to another wistful expression and she hesitated, unsure if she should continue. “But honestly… I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him.”

Eli hummed and met her gaze. Neither would he. 

“Anyway,” the woman said, rising to her feet. “I’ll stop badgering you. The shuttle won’t prep itself! But um… I hope he’s down there. And… I hope you find him.”

“Don’t you mean _we_?” His gaze sharpened just a little as he regarded her. “Don’t you mean you hope _we_ find him?”

“Sure,” she said, winking over her shoulder at him. 

He felt the heat rising in his cheeks. Was he that obvious?

She was almost to the door when Eli called her back. “I didn’t get your name.”

Her features lit up with a contagious smile just before she disappeared through the hatch. “Just call me Che’ri.” 

//

Ar’alani knew it was entirely possible for Eli’van’to to become emotionally compromised on this mission. Before the _Steadfast’s_ collaboration with the _Chimaera_ , she’d been intrigued as to the human’s relationship with her old colleague. Mainly because what grown man agrees to uproot his entire life for his alien commanding officer? 

But during and after the operation it became abundantly clear that her lone human officer held some form of non-platonic affection for Mitth’raw’nuruodo, if only evident by how his aura had shifted dramatically when Thrawn showed him nothing short of cold indifference upon their long awaited reunion. She’d watched his face then; watched as it fell in the kind of way a disappointed or pained lover’s would. 

It had taken a few more weeks, after the _Steadfast_ began the trek home, for the broader scope of those feelings to make themselves known. They had received word of the _Chimaera’s_ destruction over Lothal and the human’s reaction had been exceptionally, well... human. 

It was then that she deduced that they had not been lovers, but Eli’van’to had indeed loved her old friend nonetheless. She assumed the sentiment had been unrequited. 

So she’d allowed him to accompany her on the initial search to find the missing Chiss, for many of the same reasons that she was allowing him to accompany the ground team now. 

When Thrawn had sent her a human, speaking praise and a promise of greatness, it was as clear as Csilla’s crystal lakes that Thrawn had plans for this Eli Vanto. Ar’alani had never been the prying sort, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t interested in those plans. She told herself it was because when Thrawn returned, it was possible he’d steal Ivant away to see to those plans, and if that was the case she’d fight tooth and nail to keep him. His work was essential to the Ascendancy and she wouldn’t allow him to be torn away by anyone for anything. It was also possible that Thrawn’s plans did indeed relate to the navigator’s abilities and their longevity, but she wouldn’t know for sure until Thrawn’s return. 

The other reason was solely for Ivant’s benefit. After what had transpired on the _Chimaera,_ and since learning of his repressed feelings, Ivant deserved a proper reunion. And this time, if he didn’t press for an actual conversation between the two men, she would. 

The memory of him grieving softly in his bunk at the beginning of their search, when he’d thought he’d been alone, still stirred up an empathy for him that she’d never thought she’d feel for someone so… alien. She had always seen non-Chiss as people. Whether those people would prove useful or not was a commander’s responsibility to determine. As much as Ivant was turning out to be one of her greatest assets, he also possessed a bedrock goodness that she found… refreshing. However, he was also very emotional, per his human nature. She understood that sifting through emotions to ascertain motives was an essential tactical skill to possess, but what she found the most disturbing was how similar she and the human were. Determined. Stubborn. Loyal. And the one that tied them the closest together, because she was pretty sure her and Ivant were alone in this category: friends of Mitth’raw’nuruodo. 

Their scouting had brought them to many places and each location had held a new disappointment and a fresh twinge of loss when they left empty handed and with no leads. Perhaps, if they did not find Thrawn or did not find him alive, the knowledge would bring Ivant closure. At least then they could move forward.

Ar’alani had to admit it was rare for her to take such a personal liking to any single officer, but she dare say she’d grown fond of the man and respected him enough not to ask about his former commander. Privacy was highly valued among the Chiss and she would never sacrifice her high morals for a rare bit of gossip. 

The human beside her stood abruptly, taking a step closer to the small starboard viewport of their shuttle. He remained squinting out the window until they landed, and straightened when a group of beings emerged from the tree line onto the beach.

Ar’alani could only imagine the anticipation he must be feeling. She was also anxious. Well, as anxious as she would ever allow herself to be. 

As protocol dictated, she gave the orders for her scouts to head out. Ivant made to move past her. 

“Stay,” she instructed quietly. 

She saw him bristle out of the corner of her eye, but he did not argue. 

Her warriors had been gone for nearly ten minutes when her comm sounded. Ivant pulled himself from his self-appointed post by the window when he heard its two-tone alert.

 _“One of them speaks Sy Bisti, Admiral,”_ the crackling voice said through the comm device. _“She keeps repeating the same phrases. Definitely not fluent.”_

“What is she telling you?”

_“That they are _Chimaera’s_ crew… stranded… and need help.”_

Movement to Ar’alani’s right drew her attention as Ivant returned to his spot at the viewport, likely searching for familiar faces. 

_“And there’s something else, Admiral…”_

The warrior lowered his voice. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, the weight of his words settling heavily on her shoulders. Thanking him and cutting the line, she strode to Ivant’s side. His arms were folded across his chest as he anxiously scanned the group below.

“Ivant.”

He turned to her, meeting her calm gaze with one housing an internal storm. No doubt he’d registered her use of his core name. She watched the color drain from his face. 

“No,” he said softly in disbelief. 

“He’s not here,” she said as casually as she could. No need to make a bigger deal out of this already massive deal. 

“Not here?” Ivant echoed, dumbfounded, furious and relieved all at once. “What do you mean not here? Where is he? Did they tell you where he went?”

“No they did not.”

“Well he had to have been here. How else would they have learned Sy Bisti-“

He cut himself off when Ar’alani raised a delicate, questioning eyebrow. 

“Calm yourself, commander,” she muttered. “Do not make me regret permitting you to be here.”

She caught sight of her team out of the viewport as they headed back to the shuttle. They’d asked for sustenance and first aid for the survivors. There was only so much they carried onboard, but she’d offer what she could. In three quick steps she’d reached the emergency storage container, hauling the lid off and peered inside.

“He is alive, though?” Ivant’s soft voice asked just before the shuttle door opened.

Two of the warriors marched in and grasped a handle on either side of the container. Ivant followed them down the ramp with his eyes, frowning slightly. “We’re not really just leaving them here, are we?”

Ar’alani chose not to answer him. One of her warriors stayed behind in the shuttle to hand her a small device, which she took with a sigh. 

“Is that…” Ivant asked hesitantly.

“They said he left,” Ar’alani told him, answering his previous question. She strode swiftly to his side and handed him the Imperial comm transmitter. He took it from her with slightly shaky hands. “After the crash, apparently.” 

After staring at the comm with a blank expression for a long moment, he pocketed it. Then he shook his head, his voice almost inaudible as he wondered aloud, muttering under his breath. “Why would he leave? Even he knows when to make allies for the sake of survival.” 

Unless for some reason he thought he’d be better off alone, in which case…

“I have already sent warriors in search of him,” she told him as gently as she could in her battle-hardened voice.

His shoulders visibly relaxed, soothed by her continuous belief that they would eventually find him. She knew what that faith meant to him. 

He wasn’t soothed for long, though. “He couldn’t have left this planet,” he murmured, brown eyes fixed on the landscape. His tone, gaze, stance - everything - radiated determination. She pictured the cogs working in his mind, piecing together patterns and solving riddles. Smoke was practically wafting from his ears. 

She gazed out the window, following his line of sight. “Perhaps you have forgotten his resourcefulness, commander.” 

He sighed beside her. After a moment he lifted his chin in what could have only been a demonstration of sheer bravado because the rest of his body seemed to sag with defeat. 

“Yeah…” Ivant trailed off. “I guess you’re right.”

It appeared he no longer deemed his constant scanning of the beach necessary because he turned away and flopped down on a side bench, head falling into his hands. Ar’alani remained a beat longer, watching her people supply the others with food and water and what little medical supplies they had. She was distracted, frustrated mostly with Thrawn, and to her chagrin she almost missed it. A young man with unruly black hair, dressed in tattered orange clothing, stood just outside the circle of the main group. At first, Ar’alani thought he was throwing things, but after another glance she retreated in astonishment as a stick flew into his outstretched palm. 

_The Jedi._

She activated her comm device. 

“Yes, Admiral.”

Ar’alani hadn’t responded to Ivant when he had asked, with carefully controlled disgust, if they were really going to just leave them here. Truthfully, she hadn’t thought that far. Now the effort to do so would not be needed. 

“Pack up their things and get them on board the shuttle,” she spoke briskly into her comm. “Bring them all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 turned into Chapters 3, 4, and 5. Whoops! : )
> 
> Also: Yes, I know. But ‘Thcher’ just doesn’t have the same ring to it. 😆


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo this is my first fic in which I’m writing Ezra. I hope it’s semi-decent. XD

Ezra had to admit that Hammerly might have been onto something when she’d accused him of resisting their situation. 

Through the years and over the course of many life-altering events, Kanan had instilled in him the importance of acceptance. He’d spoken to him about it ad nauseam and shown him through meditation the path to which acceptance could be attained. He’d given him all the necessary tools; tools that had aided him in accepting his parents' passing and even helped him cope with the lifeless void he’d felt after Kanan’s death. The Ghost crew had been the family he’d never expected, but they’d given him purpose and shown him grace. And he’d even resisted them, at first. 

So when Ezra was faced with Thrawn’s people, tall and sleek and black-clad, he decided not to fight the situation. Or them. Because they looked tough. Like _invincible_ tough. Their posture and gazes and the way they spoke radiated a confidence that Ezra had only ever seen in Thrawn. Much more disciplined than his Rebel friends and with more poise than any Imperial. Showing excessive force was unnecessary for them; there was no need to prove themselves in order to convince others of their ascendancy. They were just… better than that. 

Ezra eyed their sidearms, thinking to himself that ‘invincible’ was beginning to sound more and more feasible. With a smug smirk he reminded himself that that wasn’t accurate. He had defeated a Chiss before. Once.

Thrawn had been stoic and scary, but this Admiral Ar’alani was... _indomitable._ Ezra quickly deduced that to cross her would either be foolish, or downright stupid. So he followed her warriors inside their shuttle and sat down beside Hammerly and the four other Imperials. 

It was then that he saw him. 

Eli Vanto.

Identifiable simply by being the only human in a Chiss uniform. (And also because Hammerly cried “Eli!” when he stepped around the corner.) He gave her a pleasant smile, but was apparently only there to translate for Ar’alani. 

She offered them shelter and hospitality, which the others accepted without question.

Ezra had many questions. Like when he’d be allowed to go home. 

“Do I have a choice?” he snapped at Vanto.

“Would you rather stay here?” the other asked calmly. Ezra was surprised to hear his Wild Space accent. 

“I’d like to go home, actually.” 

Ar’alani turned a sharp look to Vanto before he could respond; a short, angry sounding exchange. Vanto replied calmly. Then the Admiral rattled off a full minute of alien speech until the human politely held up a hand, perhaps indicating that he could only translate so much. 

“The Ascendancy does not send vessels to-” Vanto paused, seeming to search for an alternative explanation. “Out of the Unknown Regions unless there is just cause; viable resources, advantageous military excursions-”

“What does that mean?” Ezra wondered, agitated.

Hammerly spoke up beside him. “It means they’re not going to send us back unless they’re already going for another reason,” she explained quietly. “It’s a waste of fuel and time.”

Ezra gawked at her. “Don’t you want to go home?”

She just stared at him.

Oh. “Nevermind,” Ezra said, absentmindedly scratching the back of his ear. 

“And besides,” Vanto continued. “All of you are malnourished, dehydrated and sleep deprived. Some of you have injuries. We are offering you aid, I suggest y’all take it.” 

He wasn’t wrong. Ezra couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t been hungry. His blue eyes flashed to Ar’alani, wondering if the Chiss had ever kept humans here against their will before. Maybe that’s why Vanto had stayed… 

He took a deep breath. 

_Acceptance._

“Fine.”

  


//

  


Perhaps it had been the reports Eli had read about the half-trained Jedi that had led him to believe the boy was on the younger side. He was wrong; he was probably only a couple years younger than Eli had been when he’d first met Thrawn. Ezra Bridger was more man than boy. 

Which awarded him even less sympathy from Eli. He couldn’t help it.

He’d read every report he could get his hands on. He knew what Thrawn had done and although it pained and confused him to read about the Imperial Armory or what happened on Ryloth, Eli held out faith that it had all been for good reason. At least, that’s what he’d told himself every time another outrageous report came through. One day, Eli would ask Thrawn about it. He just had to find him first. 

The conversation with Hammerly went pleasant enough. She was thrilled to see him, and although seeing a familiar face soothed an ache in Eli’s chest larger than he cared to admit, seeing her again did not calm his racing heart. 

_He_ was not here. 

The possibility had arisen in conversation, but it was one he’d never truly entertained. He’d been so certain that his message had reached Thrawn directly. Refocusing on whatever Hammerly was saying and remembering to breathe, he tried not to picture his entire world crumbling around him.

Hammerly asked him many questions which he answered to the best of his ability, if he could. Some he didn’t know the answer to and some he was just down right forbidden to discuss. He had less questions for her, not because he was indifferent to her presence, but because his escalating frustration prevented him from remaining pleasant and genuine. That, and she apparently had zero information on Thrawn. Before his grumpiness transitioned to rudeness, Eli excused himself and ensured her that one of the kitchen crew would be in shortly to offer refreshment. 

The Admiral was waiting in the corridor.

“Nothin’,” he grumbled, striding past. He didn’t need to glance at the Chiss to know she’d been hoping he’d glean some sort of insider information. She’d be disappointed that he hadn’t, but not to the extent that Eli was.

“Commander,” her voice cut like a whip through the corridor's silence. 

He stopped, breathing in slowly, and released the air through his nose before turning to face her, now the epitome of respect and propriety.

“Admiral.”

Her silent curiosity revealed itself in the small crease separating her eyebrows. He tried to hide his anger at the situation as it threatened to bubble over. She did not deserve his agitation, and being his commanding officer he wouldn’t plague her with his constant disquietude. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered into the silence. 

His apology applied to a multitude of shortcomings. One glance into her glowing eyes and he knew she understood them all.

“Get some rest,” was all she said before leaving him alone.

  


//

Ezra felt like a prisoner. And if there was anything he hated feeling more than underestimated, it was imprisoned. Granted, he’d been offered the opportunity to shower, a generous meal, and a place to sleep but still, being prohibited to wander the ship alone felt an awful lot like being babysat. 

He was currently lounging the best he could on a bench outside the admiral's office with two unusual babysitters, indeed. A human, and a Chiss girl who looked young enough to need her own babysitter. 

The young one, Un’hee they called her, seemed to like humans most. When she wasn’t attached to the man called Eli Vanto, she was scooting across the plain, hard bench, closer and closer to Ezra. He sat warily, watching her out of the corner of his eye and expecting her to eventually start chatting; which he just assumed didn’t happen. He wondered if she was always this outgoing, or if it was only because Vanto was there. 

Ezra regarded the man seated across the corridor on his own bench, posture relaxed and confident, but not overly pretentious like his Chiss counterparts. He was lounging back against the wall, arms crossed loosely around his middle, feet planted firmly on the floor below. When he blinked, his heavy eyelids stayed shut a little longer each time before popping open again. 

He didn’t seem so great to Ezra. If he were Thrawn, he probably would have chosen someone a little more… intimidating to send to his homeworld; someone strong and brave and of valuable leadership quality. Eli Vanto didn’t seem like much to him. 

The other human gave him a small smile when their eyes met. Ezra nodded stiffly in return and averted his gaze, not overly anxious to strike up a conversation with him, either. He supposed that being one of the only other humans on this ship he should probably befriend the man, but he was an Imperial, er — ex-Imperial. He was a deserter. Or maybe just loyal to another cause? Was that worse? Or better? Ezra didn’t know.

He raised his gaze once more to find Vanto watching him. The ex-Imperial, wanna-be-Chiss opened his mouth to unfortunately begin speaking, but the girl beat him to it. She had slid all the way over, now grinning enthusiastically up at him from below. 

To his horror, she burst into a ferocious one-sided conversation, gesturing with her hands and motioning to him and then to Vanto and back to him. Ezra’s eyes grew wide when she continued to express herself in what he quickly understood to be her native language. It sounded complicated, spoken in more syllabic gibberish than Sy Bisti. 

“Un’hee,” Vanto called softly. He then spoke a few sentences in the same language and patted the bench beside him. 

The girl glanced at him with zero interest and then turned back to Ezra, peering up at him and clearly upset that he didn’t want to communicate with her.

“I just… I don’t… ” Ezra wasn’t sure how to make her understand. He looked to Vanto, feeling helpless and overwhelmed with frustration at Thrawn. If he’d only taught him to speak a little Sy Bisti…

The human granted him a small, sympathetic nod and smile. “She knows. She says she’s glad to meet another human.”

He called for her again but she didn’t budge. Instead, she looked up at Ezra with big red eyes and tried again.

“Hello,” she said simply, her Basic heavily accented. She placed her hand on her chest. “Un’hee,” and laid a hand on his arm. “Jedi.”

Ezra’s eyes flashed to Vanto’s before answering. “Uh, yeah. Kinda.” He placed a hand over his heart. “Ezra.”

“Ezerah,” she repeated. 

He smiled and gave her an encouraging nod. “Close enough.”

The girl flashed him a toothy grin before hopping off the bench and returning to Vanto’s side. She waved at him from across the way before leaning in to whisper something in Vanto’s ear, the glow from her eyes reflected on his cheek. 

Vanto listened intently before straightening and turning to him, humor and ease in his brown eyes. “She heard you can move sticks.”

Ezra opened his mouth to explain, but how to explain the Force to a child? He had no intention of hurting the girl’s feelings by saying it was something she’d never be able to do. He could only imagine how impressed she must be. He remembered when he’d been impressed by any of Kanan’s tricks. 

“She wants to know if you can move anything as big as starships,” Vanto continued, an odd chill to his voice that didn’t match the warmth of his eyes. “Because she can.” 

Blue eyes flashed from brown to red, trying to get a read on the two of them. The girl’s eyes were bright in honest curiosity, but Vanto’s expression remained deadpan. Ezra simply couldn’t read him. He tried reaching out with the Force. 

Nothing. 

There was no doubt in Ezra’s mind that Vanto knew exactly how he had crashed the ship he’d once called home. Surely that chill in his voice couldn’t be due to that. Could it? 

“I know I’ve already asked you,” Vanto said coolly. The girl twitched beside him, aware of the shift in conversation. She shrank back a bit. “But Ar’alani isn’t here so you don’t have to lie. Do you know where Thrawn is?”

Ezra did not owe this Eli Vanto anything. Sure, his message had found Thrawn and in turn, had found him. But this human was not his friend. 

“No. I don’t.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

Ivant had been right. If Thrawn had indeed spent any time with his shipwrecked crew, he hadn’t taught them Cheunh. Smart; as sharing their people’s vernacular would’ve been foolish on his part. With the majority of the Syndicure viewing Thrawn as a danger and a threat to the peace of their worlds, teaching humans Cheunh would’ve only enhanced that growing opinion. When he returned, he’d need all the political advantage he could attain.

The downside to that, however, was that they required a translator. And there was only one person who spoke Cheunh and Basic with any fluency in all of Chiss space. No problem, he _had_ said he was willing to do so.

Currently, Ar’alani sat with Vah’nya inside her office suite. It had taken some encouragement and gentle coaxing, but the young woman had decided to meet him. Ever since the beach where Ar’alani had witnessed the Jedi’s abilities she’d been curious as to how the Ascendancy might utilize knowledge of such powers. So she asked Vah’nya to learn from him. Not alone, of course, Vah’nya had always been somewhat wary of outsiders. Ivant would be present as translator and undercover bodyguard, for lack of a better term. As the eldest and most advanced sky-walker, Vah’nya would headway this undertaking before introducing Bridger in any capacity to the others. 

After receiving a nod of affirmation from Vah’nya, Ar’alani accessed the entry panel and stepped into the corridor. Ivant was present, which was to be expected, but he was also accompanied by Un’hee, even though it was well into her sleep-shift. Ar’alani shot Ivant a look that she knew he’d caught but chose to disregard for the moment. 

Bridger was standing as well, although with hunched shoulders indicating either fatigue or disinterest, but when Ar’alani stopped before him and stepped to the side to introduce Vah’nya, he straightened considerably. 

He held out his hand in what must have been a human gesture, and began speaking as though he’d forgotten completely that they didn’t speak Basic. 

Ivant cleared his throat and the young man fell silent, his enthusiastic expression falling as he remembered Vah’nya couldn't understand him. The young woman’s brow twitched and she shot Ar’alani an apprehensive look as if to say ‘are you sure about this?’ 

The Jedi pocketed his outstretched hand when he realized it hadn’t been grasped in return greeting, his cheeks coloring slightly in the infrared. 

Ivant strode forward, translating in Cheunh. “He says it’s nice to meet you and he’s excited to work with you.”

Vah’nya gave Bridger a slight smile and small nod and the awkward introduction concluded. 

Ar’alani beckoned them all into her office, pausing at the door. “Perhaps Un’hee should retire for the evening,” she suggested, in a tone that was not suggestive in the least. “As her sleep-shift ends in four hours.” 

The young girl gave Ivant a pleading look, but he shook his head and bent to whisper something inaudible. She stopped just before the threshold and stared unhappily at him with her arms crossed until the office door hissed shut and she was left outside. 

Ar’alani stood patiently off to the side, eyes flickering between Bridger and Vah’nya as Ivant explained and translated what they hoped to accomplish through this venture. Her human officer strode over after a minute or two, leaving the others to attempt communication sans speech.

“Well,” Ivant said with a sigh as he reached the caf machine beside her. “All things considered… I think this will be good.”

She shot a sidelong glance at him, eyeing his steaming mug. “Is sleep not in the cards for you this evening, Commander?”

He snorted into his mug and did not supply an answer. Placing his drink on the table behind him, he leaned against it and crossed an ankle over the other.

The two watched as Vah’nya giggled at something Bridger had mimed. She glanced over at Ar’alani and, noticing she was being watched, tried to hide her guilty smile by tucking her long hair behind her ear and ducking her head. Ar’alani cocked her head to the side. Interesting. Perhaps putting them together wasn’t her wisest decision.

“He’s flirting with her.” Ivant muttered beside her.

“Yes, I see that.”

 _Bold,_ she thought.

There were some things that transcended language barriers. It eluded her as to why Vah’nya would allow the newcomer even an inkling of opportunity for courtship. Vah’nya had been sheltered her whole life. Admittedly, even more so than most sky-walkers. She’d remained on a warship much longer than any of the other navigators, but surely she saw through this boy’s attempts to impress her. Body language spoke louder than words and the way he was leaning in and smiling at her stirred up an old protectiveness that Ar’alani had yet to rid herself of. She sighed heavily; old habits die hard. One day she’d allow that protectiveness to diminish.

Today was not that day.

“Vah’nya,” she snapped. The young woman straightened to attention. 

Ivant chuckled under his breath and the Admiral only threw him a pointed glance over her shoulder. The situation was unprecedented, and perhaps a little awkward for everyone. She would permit minor flippancy if only to break the ice, just this once. Ar’alani beckoned to Vah’nya and the woman made her way over to them. 

“I want you to teach him Cheunh,” Ar'alani said in a hushed tone.

Ivant didn’t appear at all surprised. “I assumed as much.”

“The situation will become more… delicate... when we arrive at Csilla.”

“That is a week from now,” Ivant reminded her as Vah’nya approached. 

She glanced sidelong in his direction. “I am aware, thank you.”

“Yes, Admiral?” Vah’nya asked politely. 

Ar’alani understood it would take longer than a week for someone to become fluent in their native tongue, but a good amount could be learned in that chunk of time. She determined very quickly that while she trusted Ivant and his linguistics, if the Jedi Bridger was to truly be of any use to them, he would need to learn to communicate with them _all._ Her red eyes flashed in his direction. A side benefit, of course, would be every time Bridger spoke to Vah’nya, Ar’alani would know exactly what passed between them. 

//

Eli didn’t mind the city of Csaplar; his private apartment was here and Thrass lived at the Mitth Family Homestead not quite halfway across the planet. Eli wasn’t invited to the homesteads for obvious reasons, but he made do with his high-end, albeit lonely, living quarters. During the _Steadfast’s_ extended stay at the Csilla shipyards when he and Ar’alani had first begun plotting their search for Thrawn, she had insisted that he get a space of his own. 

Apparently, he was to live above ground - something about him not qualifying for rotational living. Downtown Csaplar was sprawling and polished, but there was something off about the capitol city.

With all its impressive infrastructure and many transportation tube cars constantly zooming across the surface, Eli always figured it would be bustling with hundreds if not thousands of people. But that was never the case. The shops never had patrons, all the city parks were deserted, and he never heard of any good restaurants even though they all appeared well furnished and elegant from the outside. Apart from the scattering of a few families, aristocra, and syndics there was really no one here.

But there had to be more people, somewhere. He’d heard of the underground caves and put two and two together, assuming many Chiss lived down there. It was probably warmer there, anyway. With a huff and a quick thought why he - as the only human - wasn’t housed below, he pulled his CDF jacket tighter around his lean frame. 

The tube car in which he sat with Ar’alani was heated, but he’d chosen to sit by the window, which had been a poor decision. The frigid air outside radiated off the cool steel of the car and he couldn’t help the shiver that ran through him. 

Ar’alani noticed and glanced in his direction, interrupting her conversation with an older man and his aide who sat one row up and across the aisle as they made their way to the outskirts of the city. The car would first drop off Eli, and then shuttle the others to their respective destinations.

The older man was dressed in deep burgundy robes and Eli, even in his weary state, deduced that he must be a member of the Political Hierarchy. As he and Ar'alani spoke, Eli could’ve sworn he heard him say something about Ar’alani and her prior status with the Irizi Family. The Chiss Families were a pain to keep straight, but he recognized the Irizi as one of the Nine Ruling. Eli hadn’t known Ar’alani had been blood-born, but then again he’d never thought to wonder. She was just ‘Admiral Ar’alani.’ He smiled to himself as he gazed out the window. He supposed that was the point. 

Eli began to notice about ten minutes into the trip that the Mitth man had something he was dying to say. Every so often he’d glanced over his shoulder, eyeing Eli with an expression that was either of curiosity or challenge. Finally, he decided to speak up, but he didn’t speak to Eli.

“I don’t much trust the reports, Admiral,” the man began. “Perhaps you could tell me…”

Eli waited for it.

“Did you find him?”

There it was.

Ar’alani gave him a terse smile, lips pursed together. “False alarm.”

Eli deduced there must be something he didn't understand that spanned the awkward silence between them; some on-going feud between the Families, probably. Or perhaps something they'd come to an agreement about long ago that was not fully agreed upon, but accepted nonetheless. 

The man’s eyes scanned Eli and when he spoke, he spoke to him. “Pity.” 

The look the Chiss gave him made his insides combust into a klaxon-wailing alarm. The man smiled, curt and snide, and the pit of Eli’s stomach burned like coals of a fire that refused to die out. He grinned politely back, ignoring the nagging feeling. 

“General Mak’ro will be disappointed,” the man said, distractedly as his attention was still on Eli.

“Aren’t we all,” Ar’alani added ruefully.

“My apologies,” the man said, seeming to lose whatever resolve he possessed. He turned in his seat, disturbing the aide beside him as she glanced over her shoulder but paid them no mind after that. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. Of course I’ve heard of you…” he chuckled. “Who hasn’t heard of the only human amidst our ranks?” 

He continued, prying deeper. “Sent by Mitth’raw’nuruodo himself, if I’m not mistaken.”

“You’re not,” Ar’alani said curtly, keeping her eyes forward. “Commander Eli’van’to, Patriarch Mitth’urf’ianico.” 

Eli tried to keep the surprise from showing on his face. He’d never met a Patriarch before, but he’d heard this one had substantial influence and ample pull when it came to the search for Thrawn.

Ar’alani didn’t pause for either man to acknowledge the other. “But it would be a shame if his contributions to the Ascendancy were not recognized as his own.” 

Thurfian raised an eyebrow. Eli knew what Ar’alani was doing, dangling an anomaly before the Patriarch. Usually he would be offended at being paraded before politicians like a piece of meat, if he wasn’t also incredibly flattered by her words. He wasn’t daft, though, and knew that she was simultaneously securing his good standing and reputation, for if Thrawn returned and _his_ reputation turned out to be a massive dumpster fire, it would be a disaster for Eli’s career. They were associated, yes, but independently so. 

“Oh? Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Eli’van’to.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, Patriarch,” Eli said, flashing him his best smile. 

The man spun a bit more in his seat, honest curiosity plain on his face. “Mind humoring an old man and elaborating on these contributions?”

“Forgive me, Patriarch,” Ar’alani interjected coolly. “Breach of protocol, I’m afraid. Shouldn’t be discussed outside of Defense Hierarchy, and certainly not within a public tube car.” 

The man stiffened but his lips curved in a gracious smile. “Of course. Keep your secrets safe. But know that the Ruling Families follow such promising individuals. We’re all looking to add a little prestige to our families, after all.” His jolly chuckle didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Although, some adoptees can be-”

“It is known,” Ar’alani cut in. “That not all merit adoptives meet their Family’s expectations.” 

Thurfian scoffed, smirking in the way that made Eli inwardly cringe. He opened his mouth to likely agree with the Admiral when she boldly interrupted.

“Some surpass them.”

And that was the end of that.

Thurfian’s expression grew cold and Ar’alani feigned the most diplomatic smirk Eli had ever seen. An announcement came over the speaker that his stop was next. Good thing, too, because the tension that had engulfed the car had become so suffocating that Eli fought the urge to pull nervously at his collar. Was it hot in here? 

After bidding them both good evening, Eli felt the Patriarch’s eyes on him as he left and he couldn’t help but shiver when he stepped out of the tube and into the frigid Csillan air. The distance to his building wasn’t far, but he shoved his hands into his pockets to protect his fingers from the bone-chilling breeze. 

Here in the capitol, all the Family flags were flown proudly. He was told that as visitors and family members approached their respective homesteads, traveling farther onto the family’s land, only the flag of that specific family could be found billowing in the harsh wind. His eyes lingered on the Mitth banner, flying burgundy with a decorated gold emblem in the center. The sight alone solidified the discouraging truth that he’d tried to ignore for the last week, distracting himself by teaching Bridger Cheunh or spending time with a kindhearted child who unintentionally picked at an open wound every time she’d asked if he was alright. 

He passed the adorned front entrance and continued to the lift. Eli had already begun planning his next outing and Ar’alani had practically given him the go-ahead so that he could essentially leave tomorrow if he wanted to. 

The entire operation still rattled him and he couldn’t help but feel defeated, although he knew there was nothing more he could’ve done. 

Thrawn had entrusted him with knowledge of his people, and by extension, the Ascendancy’s most cherished and guarded secret. Thrawn had _believed_ in him. Surely that had to count for something. And surely Thrawn would’ve known the Ascendancy would come looking for him following Lothal. So why would he leave the crash site? Did he not want to be found? Or did he not want to be found by Eli? And why? 

His fingers were cold, despite his attempts to keep them warm and protected from the elements. He fumbled with his keys when he reached his door, still unfamiliar with the simple mechanisms on Csilla that were so different from the advanced technologies on the _Steadfast._ The subfreezing temperatures here were not conducive to advanced systems, causing the tech to glitch out often. So instead, they relied more on what Eli figured were practically antiques. 

Feet dragging, exhausted and defeated, Eli finally crossed the threshold to his apartment and froze. 

He wasn’t alone. 

“Hello, Eli.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well… who could that be?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Without further ado... Thrawn. : )

Mitth'raw'nuruodo did not experience anxiety often, if at all. He did not feel apprehension, and he most certainly did not second guess decisions he’d already made. Careful calculation and sound reasoning overcame such insecurities, allowing him to process situations clearly without the weight and burden of impeding emotion. He’d chosen to manifest logic above all else and in doing so acquired impossible results in the field, but as of late, Thrawn found logic to be failing him. 

He’d grown arrogant, underestimating a small cell of rebels and a partially trained sorcerer. He hadn’t seen it coming, but he should have. The rebels who he thought would bring him an easy victory over Lothal had surprised him. The loss of his flagship, his entire crew and fleet, had been a blow he’d never envisioned. He was not infallible - he knew that - but it had been a massacre… and under his orders. 

He took what pride he could in knowing that he’d saved a few promising individuals from a fiery death. He wasn’t entirely sure where Faro was stationed now, but he knew Hammerly was safe. 

And then there was the Jedi. It had not taken Thrawn long to find value in Ezra Bridger. When he had woken under the dense tropical canopy with multiple broken ribs and an array of deep cuts and bruises, the only thing that had stopped him from hurling himself at the Jedi was the fact that he was still alive, and to Bridger’s credit. For that, Thrawn had reconciled with the young man and formulated a reluctant but well-earned respect for him. Assuming Thrawn knew who was coming after discovering his comm device, the Chiss had instructed Bridger to demonstrate his abilities before the Admiral, in hopes that such a display would provoke her curiosity and desires for their sky-walkers. 

That had been the logical thing to do, and how he knew he’d see Ezra Bridger again.

This time his plight with logic, although it did not directly affect whether he lived or died, weighed more heavily on his heart. 

Eli Vanto had sent a message claiming the Ascendancy was looking for him, which gave Thrawn cause for concern and persuaded him to take a different path than he’d originally intended, should they be rescued. 

Which led him to his current location.

Thrawn memorized every aspect of this room from the dining room chair in which he sat. It was sparse, minimal. Nice - almost lavish even - but largely unused apart from the small messes that indicated someone had lived here at some point, perhaps had to leave at a moment’s notice. He hadn’t poked around, although he could’ve snooped without anyone knowing, if he’d wanted to. Instead, he’d sat in the same spot for hours, only getting up once to make himself a beverage and use the ’fresher.

He absentmindedly swirled the dark amber liquid in his glass, considering the more peculiar aspects of Eli’s message, things he would've been inclined to ignore if he hadn’t spent a decade with the man thinking he knew his every idiosyncrasy. But he’d noticed the way Eli’s voice had broken over certain words and trailed off at others and it sparked his curiosity. Thrawn had been around plenty of humans to recognize that the probable emotion behind those specific vocal quirks was sadness, and he wanted to know why. With the mundane task of stopping at various checkpoints across Chiss space, searching for a man that became more of a lost cause every day, the human had to have been bored. Although Eli had not sounded bored in his message. 

His message; what a conundrum it was. 

At the time he’d sent Eli away, things had been so chaotic - spiraling so quickly and too far out of hand - that he’d never had an opportunity to truly acknowledge the void left behind in Eli’s absence. Thrawn had not allowed himself to perseverate on the hollowness, to miss his warmth, his gentle demeanor and steady presence at his side. 

Not until he’d heard his message did he consider these things.

Thrawn had never wanted for anything; never found himself lacking anything in a personal capacity. He’d never felt incomplete or lonely. His heart’s desire had been driven by aspirations too grand and expansive - for his people and never himself. 

It wasn’t until Eli’s message that he realized he may not have acknowledged the void, but it was indeed there.

It had been so subtle, yet so obvious now. 

Missing someone had always seemed so foreign, so human. Now, he was fairly confident that the ache in his chest at hearing Eli’s voice was exactly that. He supposed it would take seeing his face to know for certain.

Thrawn took a sip of his Csillan whiskey and tucked an unruly lock of shoulder length, onyx-colored hair behind his ear. Logic dictated that to be nervous of an event before it actually occurred was fruitless. Thrawn knew this. In fact, he’d been the one to spout that logic to others time and time again. 

However, in this moment, Thrawn found logic to be a liar. 

The rattling of the front door’s archaic lock brought the whirlwind of chaotic thoughts to a halt. 

Thrawn had known that his greeting aboard the _Chimaera_ had wounded his friend and he’d decided it was necessary to amend the greeting for their next reunion. So when the door swung open and the lights came on and his longest human companion stepped through the door “Hello, Eli” was what he chose.

Surely that was more satisfactory than ‘good day.’ 

The human staggered in surprise and after registering who the voice belonged to, and probably questioning if he needed to defend his home or not, quickly sealed the door behind him. He hesitated a moment with his back toward Thrawn before turning slowly back around. Perhaps he thought he’d first imagined Thrawn sitting at his dining room table, waiting for him to come home. 

His footsteps echoed on the hard flooring as he stepped tentatively toward him.

“Thrawn?” he spoke, airy and breathless. 

Thrawn cocked his head to the side at hearing his name spoken by that voice. In it he caught something unfamiliar, as the last time they’d spoken Eli’s tone had been nothing short of textbook professionalism. 

Eli Vanto looked… exhausted. Thrawn knew he’d been out searching for him. A sharp pang of guilt had him reconsidering; perhaps he should have sought other accommodations. But he had made it here without being seen, to the best of his knowledge, and this was his best option. 

His eyes scanned the man before him, taking in his wrinkled uniform and the warm brown eyes currently fixed on him in bewilderment. He looked older than Thrawn remembered, but no less familiar. As he walked through his home, he placed a small device on the table along the hall wall. Thrawn only glanced at his old transmitter and rose from his seat as Eli crossed the entryway to stop before him, keeping a fair bit of distance between them. 

“It’s…” The initial shock and confusion gave way to a relieved and honest smile, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “It’s good to see you.”

He took two quick steps toward him before stopping abruptly. Perhaps he’d thought to embrace him but thought better of it. Thrawn opened his mouth to respond amiably but Eli’s relieved expression turned tense. 

“How the _hell_ did you get in here?” he blurted out, his eyes darting around to the windows and door. “How long have you _been_ in here?” 

“I apologize for having startled you.”

“Startled me?” Eli whispered frantically. “You broke into my apartment.”

“There is no need to whisper,” Thrawn reassured him. “No one else can hear you.”

The human’s cheeks flushed at that comment. Thrawn did not understand why. Eli extended his arm, waving his hand in the air and gesturing to nothing in particular. 

“Where - why weren’t you on the beach? Hammerly and Bridger had said-”

“I asked them for a favor,” Thrawn explained. 

Truthfully, he’d considered asking Bridger and Hammerly to report him deceased. But based on the tight constriction of his chest muscles when he thought of what Eli might do when he received the news, he’d determined he couldn’t do that. 

“Huh,” Eli breathed. 

“I require time and assistance before I reappear,” Thrawn supplied. “Eli,” he hedged. “Was it wrong of me to assume I could take shelter here?”

“Wha- yes,” Eli stuttered. “I mean, no- I mean, yes, you can stay here.”

The corner of Thrawn’s lip curved up at Eli’s discombobulation. He noted his pupils had grown twice their normal size and his facial glow appeared reminiscent of old times, a combination of chagrin and exasperation that Thrawn found almost comforting in its familiarity. 

“I’m sorry, I just… I wasn’t expecting you.” 

Excellent. For if he had, Thrawn’s stealth skills weren’t nearly as good as he thought.

As if Eli not expecting company triggered a sudden reminder, the human began hurrying about his living quarters, fluffing pillows and quickly folding an unkempt blanket. Nevermind the fact that Thrawn had been sitting in here for hours and had already noticed the random papers that Eli was currently shoving into a drawer, and the water glasses that he snatched up and brought to the kitchen. He grabbed a lone sock here and there as he went and shoved them into his pockets. 

“Your apology is unnecessary,” Thrawn told him as the human shuffled about his apartment. “And if it is too much of a burden-”

Eli tossed his socks into what Thrawn assumed was the laundry room and closed the door. 

“Burden?” He said briskly, wiping his hands on his trousers. “No, no burden at all.”

“Are you certain?” Thrawn asked, narrowing his eyes in question. “You seem…”

Thrawn trailed off and chose not to finish his sentence. The last thing he wanted to do was insult his old friend, especially since he was requesting to be allowed to stay here, presumably under the knowledge and acceptance of potential legal consequences. 

A short, awkward chuckle escaped the human as he ran a hand distractedly through his hair. “I mean, it’s the middle of the night…”

He said it as though it answered Thrawn’s question. He supposed it did, in a way. Another pang of guilt, and maybe he hadn’t thought this through at all. 

“And as great as it is to see you...”

He trailed off, much like he’d done in his message. Thrawn couldn’t quite decipher the emotions flittering across the human’s face, but he recognized the internal conflict. Eli’s shoulders relaxed and his eyebrows unfurrowed as contentment washed over his features. Another small smile spread across his lips. 

“It really has been a while, hasn’t it?” He said softly. “You look good. I mean,” he flushed. “for being recently stranded and all.”

Thrawn knew that couldn’t be true. Although he’d found a shower and suitable clothing, his hair was longer than the last time they’d spoke and he was certainly thinner from living off a diet of small fish and insects and whatever else they’d found on the island. 

Eli hesitated, “No one was really sure what… or if…” He began unbuttoning his thick CDF jacket, perhaps too warm from being bundled up to his chin. Stepping closer to the table, he draped it casually over a chair. 

“I apologize for the late hour,” Thrawn told him, kindly stepping back to allow him some space. That earned him another short laugh from the other as he sat and bent to unbuckle his boots. Perhaps he should be apologizing for other things? 

“Thrawn-” Eli paused and looked up with genuine worry and skepticism. “Is it alright if I call you-”

He stopped himself, perhaps remembering that Thrawn had greeted him with his first name, negating any need for formality and rank.

“Thrawn is fine,” he permitted.

“Ok, good,” Eli said. He stood, gazing around at his things with his hands fixed resolutely on his hips. “Uh… would you like anything to drink?”

Thrawn reached easily for his glass and lifted it from the table. “I helped myself. I hope that is alright.”

Eli casually waved a hand to indicate his blessing and Thrawn watched him struggle for a moment, seeming to battle some internal war. 

“Would you like to sit?” Thrawn asked quietly, graciously providing direction for their interaction. Eli needed a moment and this was the best way to offer it.

“Yeah,” Eli agreed. “That’s probably a good idea. Main living works if that’s alright with you-”

While Eli rummaged around in the kitchen, Thrawn made his way to the main living space and took a seat on the couch, waiting patiently for Eli to join him. When he did, Eli chose not to sit beside him on the couch. Instead, he stopped before a chair positioned at an angle. Thrawn respected that hesitation and even understood it, but it pained him to realize Eli did not fully trust him. They were friends, or perhaps the human hadn’t gathered that from his journal, and he was prepared to prove it. 

Before sitting, Eli gulped down a generous swig of his liquor before setting it gingerly on a table. Anchoring both hands on either armrest, he slowly lowered himself and blew out an exhale before lifting his eyes to Thrawn’s. 

They locked gazes for a moment; an extended lull in conversation filled with quiet stares and small smiles. It was enough. The silence seemed reluctant to ever end, or perhaps it only felt that way. 

“Hi.” 

Eli had whispered the word, soft and illusory, with the faintest of smiles playing on his lips.

“Hello.”

His smile broadened. “I think this is where you explain.”

Thrawn arched a eyebrow. 

“We went to the transmitted coordinates,” Eli told him, leaning forward on his elbows and folding his hands together. “You weren’t there.”

“I was.”

Eli laughed, almost derisively. “Alright. Well, we didn’t see you when we looked for you. Ar’alani sent out an entire team-”

“I know.”

Nothing Thrawn was saying seemed to ease Eli’s mind. His figurative fuse appeared to be getting shorter and Thrawn deduced with necessary caution that perhaps it was already lit. 

“So where were you?” Eli all but snapped. “And how did you get off the planet? And did you even stop to think-” he trailed off, huffing out a frustrated sigh and running a palm over his weary face.

Thrawn had been apprehensive of this meeting, and this was why. Eli was angry with him. He could see the carefully controlled muscles in his face and throat as he worked to keep his expression neutral. 

Thrawn set his drink down and met his gaze confidently. He had no intention of lying to him. “I hid in the brush before your shuttle landed, and left the planet the same way you did.”

“On a shuttle?”

The Chiss grinned, his eyes glittering. “On your shuttle.”

“You _snuck_ aboard?”

“Ar’alani won’t be pleased,” Thrawn muttered, attention diverted. “Especially since I enlisted the help of a CDF officer.” He faced Eli. “Is that so difficult to believe?”

Eli laughed outright, short and acerbic. “No. No, it’s not. So… you _were_ on the island?”

Thrawn inclined his head, keeping wary eyes on him. 

“Did you...”

“I heard it, yes.”

Now was not the time to discuss it. He gathered that by the way the human’s jaw tensed and how heat rose in his cheeks, lit up in the infrared. The moment was already emotionally charged; it would be more advantageous to wait until he had settled down a bit.

Realizing he hadn’t had a chance to reply to Eli’s sentiment from earlier and recognizing the benefits of changing the subject, he said in a purposefully neutral tone. “It is good to see you, too, Eli.”

The human instantly calmed, tension easing from his rigid posture, the line between his brows diminishing. Thrawn found his own concern lessening, pleased to discover that something as simple as a returned endearment could soothe Eli’s discontent. Thrawn realized he’d been gazing so long that he’d begun to count each scattered freckle that lay across Eli’s nose. He blinked and lowered his eyes. 

“Are you hungry?”

Thrawn gave a weak smile. He supposed he should’ve seen that coming. “No, thank you, Eli.”

During the quiet moments, he caught Eli watching him intently out of the corner of his eye, sizing him up almost as if still believing his appearance to be imagined or unreal.

“I find it necessary,” Thrawn said softly, “to assure you that I am alright.”

Eli’s eyes dropped from his face. “I’m sorry. It’s just…” he motioned. “This is strange.”

“I shouldn’t have come-”

Eli’s eyes widened. “No! No, it’s not that. It’s just -” he met his gaze squarely and swallowed. “We were looking for a long time. I was-”

Thrawn was aware of this. He knew Ar’alani would have sent Eli on the errand. He wouldn’t presume to understand the heartbreak in which searching for someone presumed dead would provoke. And judging by the tone of Eli’s voice in his 57th message… 

But now was not the time. 

“Eli,” Thrawn began. It was imperative that Eli understood; that he be given the opportunity to decline whatever Thrawn asked of him should he want to bow out. “My being here may cause you… complications. Especially if you are caught aiding me. I do not wish-“

“Aiding you?”

If Thrawn was being honest, he knew he had no right to ask anything of Eli. He’d caused enough turbulence for the man in the past; been the reason for his mistreatment for years. What was more, Thrawn had known the skepticism and distrust Eli was bound to face in coming to the Ascendancy, knew the toll it would take on his open and kind heart. But Eli had persevered, and overcome. 

Nevertheless, Thrawn’s presence in Eli’s life had always plagued the human with more dangers and difficulties than he was worth, and would continue to do so. In those brown eyes he saw Eli understood all those things, too. 

But he needed his help. 

“Yes,” Thrawn answered. “Will you assist me?”

Eli had grown wiser over the course of his time out from under Thrawn’s shadow. He paused for a moment, considering Thrawn’s query with a pensieve and cautious expression and then replied. “How, exactly?”

Thrawn explained - the short version - and Eli narrowed his eyes. The human muttered something akin to ‘I knew it’ under his breath before agreeing.

“Do you know where he is?”

“Yes,” Eli answered with a resigned sigh. “They’re being housed in the citadel.”

“Near the navigators?”

Eli nodded, blinking slowly as he took another slip of his probably now-diluted beverage. Overwhelmed with fatigue, Eli practically collapsed against the back of his chair, intertwining his fingers over his chest. His eyelids were beginning to droop, exhaustion’s demanding grasp finally securing its hold.

“You are exhausted.”

The human responded with a wan smile and a slight nod. “It’s been a long week.” 

“Perhaps you should rest.”

Sighing heavily, he made no move to abandon his current position, eyes drifting shut occasionally. He sank comfortably back into the plush material of the chair, the tension almost completely evaporating from his lithe form. His eyelids opened fully and met Thrawn’s inquisitive stare. A sleepy grin preceded a lackadaisical wave toward his bedroom suite. “You can have my room, if you want. I can sleep out here.” 

His voice was heavy and drawn out with the need for sleep. 

“It won’t take long,” he added with a soft chuckle. 

Thrawn couldn’t say with complete certainty that the human wasn’t slightly incoherent, be it from sleep deprivation or mild intoxication, in which case taking advantage of his kind offer was wildly inappropriate.

“Nonsense.” Thrawn muttered softly, reaching for and fluffing the pillow beside him. “I have imposed upon your space plenty. Your bed is yours and… I shall sleep here.” 

Eli grinned as if he’d known what his answer would be. He stood, drowsy and wavering, and retrieved a blanket or two from the closet. “If you insist. But…”

He hesitated long enough for the Chiss to press, “Yes?”

“Are _you_ tired?” Eli wondered, placing the stack of blankets on the table. 

Thrawn should lie to him, if only to persuade him to sleep. He knew the man needed it. But he’d vowed he wouldn’t lie to Eli Vanto about anything else ever again. 

“Not yet.”

Eli nodded once, short and definitive. 

“I’ll stay up with you,” he said almost defiantly, probably because he knew Thrawn would protest if he’d posed it as a question. Eli reached for his own com device, probably setting an alarm or reminder, and then for another blanket he had draped over the back of his chair, barely broken in as he was rarely home to sit in it. “For a little bit,” he added, gentler. 

Thrawn forced himself to ignore his reaction to Eli’s near whisper. He peered up at him, marveling at how good the man made stubborn look. With a warmth that Thrawn realized he'd lacked, Eli grinned, and Thrawn concluded that perhaps it wasn’t stubbornness alone that kept Eli in this room with him. 

In response to Eli’s statement (which was more a subtle test of undefined boundaries) Thrawn rearranged the pillows and scooted over to make adequate room for Eli beside him, wondering just how far the other was willing to push these new boundaries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention this is going to be a slow burn?


	7. Chapter 7

It made all the sense in the galaxy that his resistance to the situation and perhaps even what he’d done was the roadblock to communing with his friends through the Force. He convinced himself that he _could_ accept what had happened, and where he was and who he was with. He didn’t know any other way around it. 

Acceptance. Peace. Forgiveness. Impossible feats at times, but he’d done the impossible once before. And he’d do it again. 

Someday. 

He could feel her watching him, feel her anxious energy and curiosity rippling through the delicate tendrils of the Force. He tried desperately sifting through those tendrils as he searched for the calm within, but he found her presence distracting. Not that he could blame her; she was probably just as bored as he was. She’d become his constant shadow since they’d been rescued and brought aboard the Chiss warship _Steadfast._ Hammerly and the other Imperials had offered to share their expertise with the engineers and techs of the citadel, trading useful information in exchange for safe passage back to the “Lesser Galaxy” when they were able. 

Ezra had never minded being alone. In fact, growing up on the streets he’d preferred solitude. That sentiment had eventually shifted and slowly shattered upon meeting Hera and Kanan and the others, but he’d since adopted the preference again. 

Being alone wasn’t so bad, but he’d come to learn very quickly that it was near impossible here. 

Thrawn asked for his help and Ar’alani had all but reinforced that request in stone. Now that they had arrived on Csilla and he’d been taught a decent amount of Cheunh, he was to assist the Chiss navigators, with Vanto’s help. He’d heard that the human commander had called in sick, but Ezra didn’t believe that for one second. If all had gone to plan, Ezra knew exactly where Thrawn was and knew that Vanto definitely wasn’t “sick.” Ar’alani had docked her ship so that the necessary transitions could be made and now he was stuck here… surrounded by children. 

Was that… chewing he heard? 

He opened one blue eye… to see a young girl sitting crossed legged in front of him, watching him closely. 

“Did it work?” she asked him, chewing vigorously on a breakfast cake.

His shoulders sagged in resignation when he gathered that he wasn’t going to be granted any privacy for this morning’s meditation. He shook his head.

“That’s ok,” Un’hee said with a casual shrug as she got to her feet. She held out a small hand for him to take. “You can try again -” he didn’t catch her last word.

Ezra scoffed, placing his hand reluctantly in her smaller one when she extended it further toward him. 

_Ravzin't csihn._ What was that again? Some Cheunh words still eluded him. The girl ignored his confusion, pulling at his arm with both of hers in a great strain of effort to help him stand. 

“Are you hungry?” she asked as she walked beside him, shoving more of the breakfast treat into her mouth. 

He caught sight of another Chiss, older than Un’hee, through the glass of a training room window. She stood with her back towards him, arms folded across her chest as she proctored what appeared to be a flight simulation. 

“No…” he said distractedly as the two of them strode past the window, noticing how the other’s long black hair reflected the light when she turned her head. 

“O-oh,” the girl said in a singsong voice. “I see.”

The glass ended and he found himself staring at a solid wall. He looked away. Suddenly registering what Un’hee had said, he whipped his head around to stare down at her. “What do you see?”

She continued to walk forward with her chin held high. “That it’s not morning meal you want.”

Ezra‘s eyebrows shot up in surprise, too taken aback at her boldness to be angry at the child’s deductions. “Oh, really? And how do you know that?” 

She shrugged nonchalantly. “I know a lot of things. People think I don’t, because I’m only nine, but they’re wrong.”

He’d felt the same way when he was her age. “Alright,” he said, chuckling and giving her the benefit of the doubt. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Something _else_ you should keep in mind…” she dangled before him. 

“What’s that?”

Her bright eyes sparkled when she grinned up at him. “Vah’nya likes -” she spoke a Cheunh word that Ezra hadn’t heard before.

He frowned, thoughtfully cycling through the base syllables, trying to make some sense of the word. Before he had time to sort it out, she began humming a type of tune that he assumed would be popular at a gala or ball. She extended her arms and twirled in the corridor, spinning around and around, dancing to the song she hummed by herself. 

Ah. Dancing. Or music? 

Ezra smiled. “Does she?”

Un’hee confirmed the question with a confident nod of her head. “Her favorites are Dja’wa and Jan’eho.”

“I…” Ezra just shook his head. “Don’t know either of those.”

Un’hee stopped twirling and attempted to walk in a straight line but stumbled, leaning slightly into him and laughing. He laughed too, extending an arm to make sure she didn’t fall.

“Easy there.”

“It’s alright if you don’t know of them,” she said cheerfully. “I’ll - whoa, be careful!” She grasped his forearm to prevent him continuing down the corridor. 

He stopped, and waited. A silent, drawn out moment. “Wha-” 

Five feet ahead, a bright green disc, which Ezra knew was called a _bervi,_ whistled across their path, flying rapidly at Ezra’s eye level. It slammed into the wall and toppled to the floor, spinning wildly across the durasteel. A group of navigators sprinted into the hall, laughing and hollering at each other, to retrieve the object. They ended up in a heap over the disc, practically crashing into each other, vying to be the first to reach it. One of them grabbed for it, holding it above her head and took off back the way they came. The group disappeared from sight just as quickly as they’d appeared. 

“Phew,” Un’hee exclaimed dramatically. “That was close. You almost lost an eye!”

“Yeah,” he muttered. Probably just what Hera thought all those times he and Zeb had almost taken her out throwing around a grav-ball. He felt a twinge of longing at the memory. When he’d made the choice to leave everyone behind so suddenly, he’d known it was the right thing to do - what Kanan would’ve done - but the rightness of it made it hurt no less. He huffed out a sigh, puzzled as to how Un’hee had known of the disc danger but he hadn’t. 

“C’mon,” Un’hee insisted, grabbing his hand and leading him down a hallway to the left. “I’ll introduce you to Vah’nya’s favorite composers.” 

Ah. Music, then. 

//

Laying eyes on Thrawn again had been… not as Eli expected. 

At first, he hadn’t any words as he strode closer to him, numbed by shock and struck silent at seeing his very much alive former CO in his apartment. He’d kept his eyes locked on Thrawn’s in disbelief and awe until he was able to manage intelligible speech. 

He’d almost done it; almost reached out and pulled him in close. He’d almost _told_ him, almost let it slip multiple times but something held him back. Eli told himself it was only nerves enhancing all his fears, sprinkling doubt into every admission he’d thought to say but hadn’t. Perhaps those nerves would fade in time.

He’d arrived in typical, unorthodox, Thrawn-like fashion that Eli had grown to not only accept over the years, but also _expect._ So when he found the Chiss in his home it was with minor chagrin that Eli felt he should’ve seen it coming. Thrawn’s intrusion happened to be a small crime which Eli found himself easily overlooking because the act had gleaned favorable results. 

_Results._

He’d found Thrawn.

Or rather, Thrawn had found him.

After muddling through the initial awkward tension, he’d asked Thrawn to outline just what exactly he was asking of him, not that Eli had any intention of denying Thrawn his help. Eli was here because Thrawn had sent him, and he’d leave him again if he was asked to. It was as simple as that.

As simple, and as complicated. Because Thrawn was here now, in the Ascendancy, standing before him and speaking his name like he’d always imagined. He was where he was supposed to be, with Eli. Plus the human was currently in the middle of assisting the Admiral and she held more of his loyalty that the Imperial Navy ever had. So, all things considered, there was _no way_ Eli could just leave. 

Before he’d worked up the courage to settle himself beside Thrawn on the couch, Eli had sent Ar’alani a message claiming he’d fallen ill. She might assume he meant sick at heart but if it got him off the radar for a couple days, it would do. He and Thrawn needed time to reacquaint themselves and it would be much easier to do if Eli wasn’t constantly leaving for the citadel or being deployed to the _Steadfast._ But then again, Thrawn had asked Eli to assist Ezra Bridger with whatever task he’d assigned to him, so Eli would need to find a way to keep him close. 

“Eli.”

Eli wasn’t dreaming, but the whispered voice floated to his ears as if from far off, his senses slowly gaining purchase of where he was and who was speaking.

“Eli,” the voice repeated, more urgently this time.

He stirred. “Hmm…”

Whatever his head had been resting on shifted beneath him and he started awake. 

“There’s someone at the door.”

Eli blinked himself coherent, shaking himself free of the post-sleep brain fog. Raising his head he found Thrawn’s alert red-eyed gaze staring down at him. Eli jumped back at hearing the distant knocking at his door.

 _“Kriff,”_ he hissed, bolting up from the couch where he’d fallen asleep with his head resting presumptuously against Thrawn’s unbidden shoulder. 

His face flushed. He knew he’d unintentionally violated the other’s personal space before this, walking into his room or office or even ‘fresher when they’d been cadets, but he’d never gone as far as falling asleep on the man. What was worse, he specifically recalled Thrawn suggesting he make his way to his own room multiple times. But had he listened? 

No.

And now Thrawn probably thought…

What did Thrawn think? 

_Kriff._

Another knock and Thrawn also rose, composed and poised and in stark contrast to Eli’s mild panic. He’d taken three steps toward the front entrance before whirling back around. “Maybe you should-”

“I know,” Thrawn said quietly before shutting himself in Eli’s room. On his way to the door, Eli grabbed the blanket Thrawn had likely used off the sofa and draped it about his shoulders. It would appear as though he’d been sleeping and not purposefully stalling in answering the door. He felt a twinge of guilt for keeping Thrawn locked away, but pushed it from his mind as he reached the entrance.

“Eli… finally, I thought you’d never answer.”

Eli kept the door opened just wide enough that he could poke his head around it. “Hi, Thrass.”

“Sleeping in?” Thrawn’s brother asked with a judgmental tilt of his head. 

Eli hadn’t checked the chrono. What time was it?

“Something like that.”

Thrass took a short step closer. “I heard you made it back,” he said, attempting but failing to keep the trepidation from his voice. “Thought I would stop by. Your message said-”

“Yeah, we didn’t find him,” Eli cut him off, guilt and anxiety creeping up his spine. He’d never lied to the syndic before; he’d never had to. 

Thrass fell silent. Eli knew he was waiting to be let in, evident by the expectant look on his face. The Chiss eyed him suspiciously for a moment. Eli realized he was supposed to be sick and began coughing into the soft blanket around his shoulders. It smelled like Thrawn. 

Of course it did. He groaned a mental curse. 

“Are you alright?” Thrass asked, concerned although he leaned back just slightly.

Eli nodded through the fake coughs. “Just feeling a little… under the weather. You know, Thrass I should… probably get back to resting. Maybe later we-”

Thrass nodded, waving a hand graciously. “Of course. Don’t fret. Perhaps call before you leave again?”

“Yeah, I will. Thanks for stopping by.”

Eli shut the door, keeping a hand flat on it’s cool surface. He let out a breath and locked it. No one could know Thrawn was here, the Chiss had made that clear. Which was incredibly difficult when Eli wanted to tell everyone. He’d agreed to keep Thrawn hidden, but when word eventually got out…

What exactly had he agreed to?

He turned around, lost in thought of the impending arguments and the inevitable glare from Ar’alani, to find Thrawn staring at him from down the hall. He tried erasing the worrisome grimace that was probably plastered on his face. Although he’d made improvements in concealing his emotions since arriving in the Ascendancy, he’d never be as good as a Chiss at masking them.

He wrapped the blanket tighter around himself. “That was your brother.”

Thrawn lowered his gaze and nodded. He’d already known that. Swiping his sleep-tousled hair from his eyes, Eli padded over and met him where he stood. 

“Would you…” Thrawn began softly. “Do you still take caf in the morning?” 

Eli glanced at the chrono. It was still morning, but just barely. With a small smile Eli nodded and joined him in the kitchen. Thrawn made himself at home, utilizing the appliances with no trouble at all. Eli recalled that Thrawn had never drank caf in the Empire, and after Eli’s first cup in the Ascendancy he’d known why. He had to admit, if there was anything ‘lesser’ in the Lesser Galaxy, it was the flavor and potency of caf. 

“I don’t want to tell you what to do,” Eli said quietly as Thrawn watched the brown liquid drip into their mugs. The caramelized scent wafted through the room. “But I think there are some people who should probably know you’re back. People you can trust.”

The dripping ceased and Thrawn pulled the steaming mugs from the machine. He held one out for Eli, assuming correctly that he’d take it black, and briefly met his gaze. Eli recognized his effort to change the subject, slow things down, or back them up when he simply replied with, “Good morning.”

Something about that unceremoniously jolted Eli back to five minutes prior. Should he apologize for falling asleep on Thrawn? Or maybe just pretend he didn’t know it’d happened? 

“Morning,” he muttered in response, reaching for the warm mug and accidentally displacing the blanket wrapped around him. It slid off one of his lean shoulders and before he could adjust, Thrawn - with his quick reflexes - caught the fabric before it fell out of reach. He returned it to his shoulder, securing it in place with a gentle tug. Eli swallowed and murmured his thanks. They were standing far too close now. Eli peered up at him, catching a glimpse of the fiery design in Thrawn’s eyes and the longer blue-black locks that framed his face.

“I’ll consider it,” Thrawn replied dully.

Eli hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath. In an attempt to disguise his shaky inhale, he brought the mug to his lips to blow on the dark liquid. “He’s going to want to know you’re home.” he pressed when Thrawn stepped back. “He’s your brother…”

“I know who he is,” Thrawn responded. It was not said in malice, but Eli knew there would be no more debating the issue. The Chiss must have noticed his posture stiffen because he changed the subject.

“I heard you coughing,” Thrawn commented. “Are you feeling ill?”

Eli felt the heat rise in his cheeks. “No, I’m fine. I uh… I told Ar’alani I wasn’t feeling well, though. So I could stay here for a couple days.”

Thrawn stiffened and scowled. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.” Eli practically whispered, and after realizing he’d done so, stood straighter and spoke up. “I mean, obviously I want to. It’s been a while. We should… probably catch up.” He paused. “Unless of course there is a reason you wish to be alone in my apartment?” 

Thrawn shook his head. Eli had been joking but apparently Thrawn hadn’t picked up on that. 

“Ok then,” Eli said with finality. “Let’s order food and we can... talk.”

Thrawn gave a short and concise nod, bringing the cooled caf to his lips. “Very well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone care to guess who Vah'nya's real life favorite composers are? : )


	8. Chapter 8

The sound of the front door being rattled open preceded the human’s footsteps down the entry hall. Eli came around the corner, his jacket and hat covered in snow, before landing his bags haphazardly on the kitchen counter. 

“Kriff, it’s frigid out there.”

Thrawn shot him a kind look. There was nothing surprising about that statement. In fact, it was quite possibly the most obvious statement Eli could’ve made considering their location. He tugged at his gloves, teasing that Thrawn could make the next grocery run if they needed anything else.

Thrawn smiled to himself. Eli's remarks would be otherwise meaningless, if the casual comments didn’t also allude to his comfort at having Thrawn around. The informality of his demeanor reassured Thrawn that he was indeed welcomed into his space, even if he felt like he owed him. Cooking Eli dinner was the least he could do.

“Were you able to find it?” Thrawn asked.

“Sort of,” Eli said, draping his jacket over a chair and pulling a glass jar from his bag. “They didn’t have the one you wanted so I got this one instead. I hope it works.”

Thrawn reached for the container and flashed him a small smile. “Thank you, Eli.”

Eli leaned over the pan, his shoulder grazing Thrawn’s upper arm. “It smells good,” he commented, picking up the ladle and stirring the simmering sauce. 

Thrawn looked down at him, admiring the length of his dark lashes from his aerial view. He swallowed, unwittingly breathing in his familiar scent, which only made his proximity that much more palpable. Thrawn knew eyelashes were a biological adaptation to protect delicate human eyes, but on Eli...

The human glanced up, jumping back when he noticed he was being scrutinized. “What?” 

Thrawn shook his head and turned his attention to the jar Eli had handed him, twisting it open with a pop and saying softly, “These harsh elements are unkind to human complexion.”

Eli chuckled, stepping away and absentmindedly bringing a warm hand to his thawing cheek. “I’m not that delicate, you know.”

Thrawn shot him a sideways look before returning to putting the finishing touches on their meal. He knew Eli wasn’t incorrect in his assessment of himself, despite his small frame and gentle nature. He was strong in other ways, ways indiscernible to the naked eye, ways revealed through knowing someone to the extent that they knew each other.

They dished up their plates and moved to the dining table, eating in comfortable silence. At first, sharing meals hadn't been entirely comfortable, or quiet. Eli had had lots of questions for Thrawn. About the Empire. About his project. About what had happened over Lothal. About Ezra. Thrawn had answered them, honestly. Some of them he hadn’t wanted to answer truthfully; hadn’t wanted to confess to Eli that perhaps he’d lost his way without him. But Eli had taken his admissions in stride, all of them. It was Eli’s comment regarding leaving the past where it belonged and looking ahead, as a warrior would, that reminded Thrawn he should’ve known better. Eli wasn’t a member of the Syndicure who would judge him at every turn, for every toe he stepped out of line. He wasn’t part of the Defense Hierarchy, who would lay blame to every battle lost or every minute detail left undiscovered. His friend understood him better than that, perhaps better than anyone. 

And he had had questions for Eli, as well. Questions about the Fleets, the Ascendancy’s political state of affairs that teetered on the cusp of unrest, and Eli himself.

Eli chuckled into the silence, yanking Thrawn off his train of thought. He raised an eyebrow in question.

“I just still can’t believe all this time...” he trailed off, smiling at Thrawn. “And I never knew you could cook.”

Thrawn grinned too and lifted a shoulder. “It had never been a terribly important skill to maintain on a fully catered war vessel.”

Eli just smiled.

“So,” he asked between bites. “We’ve covered just about everything…” He paused, perhaps wondering how he should phrase his next statement. “But you’ve never specifically said why you came here.”

“You said the Ascendancy was looking for me.” Thrawn answered, taking a sip of his water. “In your message.”

“Yeah, but why _here,”_ he pressed inquisitively. 

Thrawn met his suspicious gaze. “I’d like to know why they were looking.”

Eli frowned, cocking his head to the side. “Because you’re one of us,” he explained, surprised at what Thrawn imagined might look like paranoia. “Did you think we’d just leave you out there?”

“You said _Ascendancy,”_ Thrawn repeated. “Not CDF, not Ar’alani, not you.”

“Ok…” Eli hedged, prolonging the word. “Maybe I misspoke. Ar’alani obviously wanted to find you. She was the one who pressed for all the searches. She proposed all of them, even mine.”

“And who signed off on them?”

“Your family, I believe.”

“The family?”

“Well, the Patriarch…” Eli paused for a moment. “Oh. Thurfian.”

Thrawn hummed his agreement.

Eli’s eyes darkened. “You know, he did seem pretty interested in you.”

Thrawn’s eyes snapped to his. “You spoke with him?”

Eli shrugged, waving a hand and returning to his meal. “I was around for a conversation. I think I said ‘Hello’.”

Thrawn’s brows twitched in curiosity, silently urging him to explain.

Eli relented. “Ar’alani and him, though. They… had words.”

Thrawn huffed. “I’m sure they did.”

Eli frowned, realizing there was definitely some undisclosed drama there. That seemed to be his lot in life; orbiting around or even shoved directly into the center of a volatile situation on the verge of erupting, but never really knowing the extent of it.

“Yeah,” Eli told him. “Him and his aide were on the same tube car that dropped me off-”

Thrawn’s eyes flashed. “He knows where you live?”

“Well, yeah…”

He trailed off at the tense look on Thrawn’s face. It was silent for a moment before Thrawn rose from his seat and strode casually to each of the windows, closing the blinds as he went. The space became darker with every shade he drew.

Eli realized in the silence that the possibility of Thurfian knowing where Eli resided may be of little consequence to him, but not to Thrawn. The Chiss returned, flipping on the lamp near the table before he sat back down.

“I’m sorry.” Eli muttered. “I should’ve told you-”

Thrawn shook his head in casual dismissal, tucking his hair behind his ear. “It’s not your fault.”

Eli couldn’t help but feel that it was, and if he had put Thrawn at risk…

But the Chiss was already moving on, asking about his brother before taking another bite. So Eli told him what he knew of the elder Mitth brother and how they'd formed a routine of having dinner together whenever Eli had been in town. Eli couldn’t help notice how often Thrawn’s hair fell in front of his face while eating and more than once he thought to comment on it.

//

Ezra had never believed Chiss to be overly attractive. The only ones he’d come into contact with prior to this were cold and rigid, assumed incapable of even the slightest smile or casual conversation. Suited only for being stoic and infuriatingly calm - and in the case of one specific individual: attempted murder. Many times.

But he and Thrawn had reconciled their differences – as best they could anyway - and he’d agreed to help him. Ezra had done what he could for Lothal, perhaps he could do some good here before returning home. 

There was of course one exception to everything he knew about Chiss adults. He’d assumed they were all strict and battle-hardened, as the ones he’d seen so far seemed bred for war. They all wore their dark hair cropped close to their heads or in a tight bun at the base of their skull. 

Vah’nya wore her hair down.

Vah’nya smiled.

Vah’nya liked music.

Vah’nya- 

He strode past a handful of rowdy girls, spotting the one boy among them who hung back, clearly content with keeping his distance from the young females. 

“Hi, Ezerah!” 

He smiled at the young Chiss he was closest with, resigning himself to the fact that his best friend here was a nine-year-old girl.

“Hello, Un’hee,” he said as the group passed. The other children began whispering excitedly, most likely questioning the girl on how she knew the newest human. He smiled to himself and deftly took a right at the next corridor intersection. Ezra knew most of this compound like the back of his hand by now. Well, the areas he had authorized access to. He chose a room off to the right; one he found to be almost always vacant. His restrictive attire would be a hindrance to what katas he planned to begin with, so he stripped off the outer shell of the outfit he'd been given upon arrival and tossed it to the side before striding to the center of the room. 

“She adores you,” a voice said from the doorway. He knew that voice, and turned to see Vah’nya leaning against the doorframe.

Ezra started. “Huh? Oh, Un’hee?” He chuckled. “Yeah well, I mean, the feeling’s mutual.” 

Vah’nya smiled. 

“I’ve watched you with her,” she said, strolling casually around him in a wide arc. “And Mi’yaric. And the others.” Her eyes held a somewhat mischievous glint to them. “You just might be everyone’s new favorite momish.”

“Their what?”

She just chuckled. “Highly ill-advised, of course.”

Ezra frowned, gathering by her expression and tone of voice that she was teasing him, although her words held some level of seriousness. Perhaps if he knew what a momish was he’d understand what she was getting at.

Once she’d completed her circle around the room she stopped, ending up once again near the entrance. She took a single step toward him, tilting her head quizzically. “You and I don’t have the same abilities, but I sense...” she sighed heavily. “Oh, I don’t know.”

Ezra, interest piqued, took a step closer to her as if proximity would glean him insight to what she was thinking. “What don’t you know?”

She shrugged. “When I figure it out, you'll be the first to know.” That wasn’t actually soothing to him. “But I am glad you’re here, Ezra Bridger.” She began to exit the space, stepping gracefully backwards. “I think it will be good for all of us. I’m certain we will see each other again soon.”

“You don’t have to go,” Ezra offered, inwardly cringing at the way the words came out. “I mean, you can stay, if-”

She’d backed up enough that the hatch opened. “I can’t. I’m needed elsewhere and you’re busy. I’ll leave you-” she grabbed a fighting stick off the rack and tossed it toward him, throwing it short. He reached out quickly, calling the weapon toward him with the Force, lest it clatter to the floor.

One of Vah’nya’s eyebrows arched in approval, “to train.”

As a subtle test he stretched out, curious of what he’d sense if –

Barriers he hadn’t been sure were even there slammed into place, effectively silencing any thoughts, feelings, or emotions he might have been able to sense from the other. She straightened, her expression turning almost icy before whipping around and leaving.

Ezra let out a long whistle after the hatch had swished shut. That had definitely been the wrong move. He hadn’t been sure she’d even be able to feel him touch her mind, but she had. 

This was going to be rough. Not only did connecting with anyone other than Un’hee seem impossible, now he’d gone and ticked off the one person he really wanted to talk to.

He spun the stick from side to side, twirling it like a pinwheel to get a feel for the way it handled. Distracted, he accidentally caught the edge of it on his leg and instantly felt the subsequent welt beginning to throb. He groaned, hoping Vanto would get over his “sickness” soon. There was only so much he could do here to keep himself busy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a little short because the next one is a little long. : )


	9. Chapter 9

Ezra hung the last mat on its hooks with a sigh as the last of the sky-walker corps exited the room, the sound of their many voices dissolving into distant chatter as they started down the halls. 

“Thank you for helping with class.”

Ezra took a deep breath before turning around. The last hour had been… awkward. Since Vanto still hadn’t shown his face, Ezra had been asked to assist Vah’nya in the girl’s tumbling class, which had turned out to be wildly entertaining. Nothing like helping to train Sabine, but rewarding nonetheless. There was just one small hiccup to the whole morning: Vah’nya hadn’t said so much as two words to him.

“Yeah, of course,” he tried saying as casually as he could. He ended up awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck because what else was he supposed to do with his hands? 

The doors off to the side closed with a pneumatic hiss and they were left in silence. 

“I wanted to apologize,” Vah’nya said. He retreated an inch, meeting her conciliatory gaze with a confused one. “I hadn’t meant to be rude the other day. It’s not… it’s not you.”

“It’s not me?” he gave her an incredulous look. _Oh, please._ “I think we both know it _is_ me.”

“Not directly,” she admitted, tilting her head as she considered. “It’s complicated.” 

Complicated? How many times had he heard that? And every time he couldn’t help but feel the ones who said it thought he couldn’t handle whatever it was. But as he looked into her eyes, finding their glow oddly alluring, he didn’t think that was the case here. 

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” he replied softly. “I know I’m the outsider-” 

Her eyes widened. “It’s not like that. I’m not permitted to let _anyone_ in.”

Ezra frowned, feeling of pang of unease at that. “Not permitted?”

“You tried to bridge our minds,” she said bluntly. “I can not allow that.”

“Ok well, one,” Ezra said, striking up a defensive tone despite himself. “I was testing a theory; I wasn’t trying to pry. Second-”

He fell silent when she took an abrupt step forward, suddenly sincere. “I’m not… angry.”

Ezra bit his own tongue, memory reeling as he recalled a conversation with Zeb years ago, about the various meanings of the word ‘fine’ and how it was _never_ just fine. And when a woman said she wasn’t angry, well...

But Vah’nya smiled then, setting flight a swarm of what felt like a thousand miniature loth-bats in his belly. Whatever game he thought they might be playing promptly ended. She bowed her head. “Decades ago,” she began, keeping her gaze on the floor. “Well, the story goes that two of us…two navigators-” she shook her head, perhaps attempting to simplify the story in order to share only the pertinent information. “They became... lost. Unable to distinguish where their own soul ended and the other’s began. It did not end well.”

Ezra stared at her. He’d never heard of such a thing. The closest he’d come to something similar was with Maul, but that had been… different. That had been terrifying for everyone else, not for Ezra. This just made his stomach churn. He’d meditated with Kanan hundreds of times, oftentimes calling on his master’s calm presence to aid in his own concentration. They had never gotten lost in each other’s minds. But Ezra knew the Chiss sky-walkers were unique. He wasn’t even entirely aware of what their full powers entailed, but he couldn’t imagine what it might feel like to lose yourself within your own mind. 

“For those of us… well, we’re not permitted to meld our minds,” Vah’nya continued. “Not unless we’re ordered to. The risk is too great.” She looked at him, her gaze now filled with a sharp intensity that moved him. “Please do not try it again.”

“Yeah,” he agreed instantly. “Of course. I wouldn’t-”

“Vah’nya?” A small voice wondered. The door opened and one of the sky-walkers peeked in. Vah’nya called to her and the young girl waited by the door. 

Before she left, Vah’nya turned to him with a softened expression. “See, I told you,” she said, smiling. “It’s not you.”

And then she was gone again.

//

  
The hardest part about living together now was getting used to each other’s internal clocks, patterns, and little personality quirks. Eli and Thrawn had shared a living space before this and even in their later years together they had pulled countless all-nighters discussing battle tactics, strategic military advantages, and even the occasional art piece. Intruding on each other’s time and space had not been an issue before. 

It seemed to be now. 

Like when Eli had unwittingly exited his room one morning to find Thrawn half dressed, breathing heavily and dripping sweat from the hollow of his throat to the hard lines of his abdomen. He’d paused his workout when he caught sight of Eli, who stood frozen in place. 

“Apologies,” he said, breathless. “If I woke you.”

Eli made a face on his way to the kitchen, trying to keep his gaze averted and failing miserably. “Oh, you’re fine. To continue, I mean.” He added briskly. “You’re good to keep going.” He waved him on. “Don’t bother stopping.” Apparently, his mouth was speaking completely of its own volition. “I mean, not on my account.”

_Ohmystarsstoptalking._

He finally made his way to the kitchen and into safety, eyes wide and wondering what the _hell_ had just happened to him. 

Eventually they fell into a routine, one that Eli memorized within days. Thrawn exercised in the morning, pushing the furniture aside and putting himself through advanced routines of strikes and counterstrikes. Then he ate a small morning meal usually consisting of high fiber and moderate protein before showering for exactly 7 minutes and 3 seconds. Following his shower, he pulled up a variety of newsletters on one of Eli’s old questises (what would previously have been status reports and tactical analysis back in the Empire) while either drinking a cup of caf or a cup and a half of his favorite tea, some herbal mix from Rentor. He drank his beverage sitting in a corner of the kitchen near the window, carefully positioned so that he could breathe in the fresh air but keep out of sight of anyone who might fly past the elevated apartment window. He’d done this for the first couple mornings, apparently comfortable doing so half nude, before realizing that parading around someone else’s apartment without a shirt on was not entirely kosher. 

Eli had almost gotten used to this new life, except for one thing. 

It was during one evening meal, after watching Thrawn tuck his long hair behind his ear and out of his food for the third time, that Eli made a decision, however unadvisable it may be. 

He cleared his throat and lifted his eyes to meet Thrawn’s. “Do you trust me?”

Thrawn knitted his brows together, hesitating. Perhaps attempting to predict where this conversation would go. “I have never known that phrase to be said before anything short of an absolute disaster.”

Eli laughed, the corners of his brown eyes crinkling in mirth. Thrawn cocked his head to the side. He hadn’t been joking, yet Eli had found that humorous. It was rare to see Eli’s smile. Or rather, it was rare for Thrawn to allow himself to simply take in its effects; the mild increase of heat in his cheeks, the brightness of his teeth, how the lights reflected the gold specks in his eyes, and the broader separation of his lips that only occurred when someone _really_ smiled. Thrawn couldn’t help the grin that spread across his own face.

“It’ll be great,” Eli assured him. “I promise.”

Ten minutes later, after dinner concluded and the dishes were cleaned, Thrawn was ushered into the ‘fresher.

“This is unnecessary, Eli,” he persisted.

The human gave a non-committal half shrug as he rummaged through the drawers. “We can’t have you looking undignified.”

“No one sees me,” Thrawn reminded him dully.

Eli stood straighter. ”I do. And as your host, I agreed to caring for your needs.” He fought back his smirk. “Plus, I’m sick of watching you push it out of your eyes.”

Thrawn blinked, unimpressed. “Your hospitality knows no bounds.”

Eli just chuckled and patted the back of the chair. “Sit.”

Thrawn eyed him suspiciously, his eyes flicking to the shiny shears in his hand. “Have you done this before?”

Eli didn’t take his eyes off him when he replied, deadpan. “Nope.” 

Thrawn narrowed his eyes. 

Eli laughed again and patted the chair a second time. “Sit. I won’t have you looking like a hoodlum in my home.” 

Taking a few tentative strides forward, he slowly lowered himself into the chair Eli had procured from the dining room. It barely fit with the two of them in there as well. 

Thrawn felt it necessary to point out, “Thrass has long hair.”

“That’s different.” Eli countered. “On you it just looks… careless.” His fingertips just barely grazed the side of Thrawn’s neck when he draped a towel around his shoulders. A chill ran through Thrawn. He willed it to go undetected. 

Thrawn watched him in the mirror. “And that is… objectionable?”

Eli didn’t seem at all bothered by his gently probing. In fact, he ignored the inquiry all together. It had been a rhetorical question, after all. Thrawn hadn’t really expected Eli to come right out and say it. 

The human lifted the shears and snipped the air twice before saying, “You ready?” with far too much enthusiasm.

Thrawn found it nearly impossible not to show a little mirrored joy when Eli was smiling at him like that. 

Thrawn kept his eyes down for most of it, locked on his clasped hands in his lap while Eli worked. He couldn’t say he was overly thrilled about the situation. After all, he hadn’t been the one who’d taken issue with his longer hair, but Eli hadn’t seemed like he would’ve taken no for an answer. Thrawn found it strange, but not uncomfortably so, for Eli to be assisting him with something that was truthfully a rather intimate act. 

With an upward glance in the mirror, he did a double take and found himself riveted. Eli was engrossed in his task, the tip of his tongue curled around his lip in concentration as he trimmed away. An involuntary smile crept onto Thrawn's face. He’d always known of Eli’s aptitude for details and general competency, he’d proven that time and time again. He was also kind and patient, and had never been bad company to keep even from the beginning, but it was becoming clear as the days went on that Thrawn’s fondness for the man had grown from professional gratitude or even friendly appreciation to… attraction. He averted his gaze before Eli caught him watching. 

“Ok,” Eli’s voice was low. “Tilt your head a little to the right, please.”

Thrawn did so. 

“Alright, don't move…”

Thrawn twitched as Eli leaned in, startled by his sudden closeness. 

Eli retreated slightly, chuckling. “I said _don’t_ move.”

“Apologies.” Thrawn muttered. Their eyes met in the mirror for only a second before Eli just shook his head and began again, the residual humor still playing on his features. Cool metal shears grazed the tip of Thrawn’s ear, warmer than usual. He chuckled to himself. Who knew Eli Vanto could make Mitth’raw’nuruodo blush?

“What?” Eli asked softly, catching Thrawn’s smile. 

Eli’s knuckle skimmed a curve of his ear and the Chiss’s eyes fell shut for the length of a heartbeat. Thrawn started to shake his head but after realizing it wasn’t the wisest decision, stopped and settled for muttering, “Nothing.”

Thankfully, Eli didn’t press for more. He simply moved to his other side. “Ok, tilt to the left please.”

Instead, Thrawn lifted his chin, peering up at him with eyes softened by a rare half smile. The human’s own eyes flicked between his but he remained silent, brow slightly furrowed and lips parted. Thrawn swore he could hear the air escape through them. 

He had no intention of inciting discomfort in the human, however, and was therefore relieved when the other didn’t look away. He had never properly looked upon him before, he supposed, and certainly never stalled like this during a task, critical or monotonous, just to do so. Especially not in such close proximity. Never in the Empire would he have permitted himself a moment like this; there had always been more pressing matters that called for his attention. The tranquility of this moment encompassed the two of them like a cocoon, secure and warm and secluded. 

He held his breath, reveling in this exclusivity, tempted to close the minimal distance between them. Not with something as untoward as an unsanctioned kiss, although it might take nothing more than him leaning in a foot, but perhaps something simpler, something Eli could accept without feeling pressure, something that might even allow him to deny any romantic affiliation if he so chose. Perhaps if he covered Eli’s shearing hand with his own and merely thanked him, before permitting him to finish the job...

Eli’s eyebrows rose a little higher and Thrawn realized the staring had gone on too long. The human gestured firmly toward the mirror with the tip of his shears. “Forward.”

The Chiss just grinned even more but did as he was told, lest Eli get the idea he was flirting with him. 

“Are you sure I can trust you with those?” he asked softly.

Eli returned to his trimming, his tongue slipping out once again. He squinted and said with an almost whimsical lilt, “I would advise against it.”

Thrawn’s smile broadened, the tension relaxing from his body completely, his stomach performing an unfamiliar sort of flip.

Abruptly, Eli stood completely upright. “Do you have dimples?”

Thrawn’s smile disappeared and the tension returned. “No.”

Eli narrowed his eyes at him. “I think you do.” He turned away to wipe the shears clean and slide them back into the drawer. “I bet no one’s ever seen them, though. You know, because you never smile...” He threw him a playful look over his shoulder. 

Thrawn snorted; Eli was teasing him. But as he purposefully kept his own smile from creeping back onto his face, he found he rather enjoyed it. 

The human moved to stand behind him, peeling the towel from his shoulders and swiftly brushing a few hairs off his shirt. Their eyes met in the mirror. “How’s it look?”

Thrawn stood, bending over the sink slightly to gain a closer look at his reflection. He turned his head this way and that, running his hand through his shorter hair. It wasn’t quite the same cut he sported in the Empire, but it was similar. It reminded him of another life, one of preparedness, confidence, and assurance. Perhaps that had been Eli’s intent. He found the human eyeing him in the mirror, gaze kind and welcoming as always. 

“It will suffice.”

Eli shrugged with a grin. “For now, until someone who knows what they’re doing can fix it.”

There was something about that statement that Thrawn didn’t like. He smiled tightly and muttered. ”Thank you, Eli.”

“You are welcome,” he responded with a genuine smile. Then his expression turned mock serious. “Now, out.”

He began to tidy up.

“If I can help-”

“Out!” Eli insisted, shooing him away with a congenial chuckle. “You're my guest. I can clean.”

Thrawn took one last look at himself in the mirror and then sidestepped his way from the ‘fresher. He glanced back over his shoulder as Eli began sweeping the blue-black hair from the tiled floor. Lingering for a brief moment, he wondered when his friend had become such an adept and gracious host. Also, almost as an afterthought but definitely not escaping his notice, he wondered at what point Eli’s charm had become so utterly irresistible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably my favorite chapter that I've written so far. I hope y'all liked it. <3


	10. Chapter 10

Unfortunately, Eli couldn’t stay home with Thrawn forever. On his first morning back to work he left home in a hurry, leaving Thrawn alone in his apartment. He was running late, as one does after what was essentially a week-long vacation. He’d enjoyed his time with Thrawn over the course of his phony illness, even if he still spent his nights alone and even when they had yet to discuss the subdued interest that flitted across Thrawn’s face every time _that_ message was mentioned. After what had become a week of recuperation, Eli was ready to delve into his next assignment. 

He found himself looking forward to whatever Ar’alani had planned for him. The arrival of the Imperials and Ezra Bridger was currently the most talked about development within the ranks and being the Admiral who had obtained the humans, Ar’alani would want to be present for any and all discoveries for as long as the Fleet could spare her. Which meant Eli was grounded, as was Un’hee and Vah’nya and everyone else typically aboard her flagship. 

Somehow, he knew the tasks she had for him would align conveniently with what Thrawn had asked him to do; there would be no dividing of loyalties while he worked with Ezra to dig up answers.

Eli had missed the outside world; he’d missed his girls. Between him and Thrawn, he was the more social of the two and needed that external stimulus to recharge. He was greeted by one of his favorite girls the moment he stepped inside the citadel. 

“Eli!”

He breathed out a stunted ‘Oof’ as he nearly toppled over from the force of the girl’s embrace. 

With her little arms still locked about his waist, Un’hee looked up and asked earnestly. “Are you feeling better?” 

He swallowed. He’d known people would ask. “I am. Much better. Thank you.” 

“Good,” she said spiritedly. She motioned him lower so she could whisper in this ear. “I missed you.”

He chuckled, replying honestly, “I missed you, too.”

“Now that you’re feeling better," she began excitedly, as they walked toward a wing of the citadel dedicated to the navigators. "Are we going back out? Is that why you’re here? To take me with you?”

He stopped in the hallway and knelt beside her, heart seizing in his chest. Eli hated having to shatter her expectations. “Actually, Un’hee, I think it’s time we try testing our patience.”

She bowed her head, crestfallen. Un’hee hated waiting. 

“Just for a while,” he added lightly. She lifted her hopeful eyes to him. “Hey,” he said with a squeeze of her hand. “You’re my first choice, ok?”

Un’hee gave him a small smile. “I understand. I’m sorry. I wish we-” she trailed off. 

“I know,” Eli soothed. 

Her gaze shifted to sympathy. She had been just as anxious on their excursions and had been just as disappointed when they hadn’t found him. She and Eli had spent many months together, just the two of them. Countless meals, numerous colored graph sheets, and even a handful of fits and sour attitudes had inevitably brought them closer. Probably she knew better than anyone how Eli would feel if Thrawn hadn’t returned. But of course he had and Eli couldn’t help but feel guilty about lying to a nine-year-old, and a friend. 

A man was waiting outside the doors to the navigator's wing when they arrived. He was dressed in gray and burgundy robes and projected a particular brand of arrogance that suggested he was used to getting his way. Inside the door by which he stood were the sky-walker’s sleeping quarters, their study rooms, their training areas and simulation sectors. Everything related to the navigator’s lay on the other side of the surveillanced, military-grade durasteel doors.

What seemed out of place was that Thurfian was standing _outside_ those doors.

Eli wondered why. Being a Ruling Family Patriarch permitted the man access to just about anything he desired. With a bribe to the right person, that could include top secret security codes gaining him entry to wherever he pleased. Perhaps the Syndicure had not breached _all_ CEDF protocols just yet. 

The older gentleman caught Eli’s eye and gave him a meaningful nod, one Eli knew he couldn’t ignore.

“Un’hee,” he muttered, palm landing on the girl’s small shoulder. “Do me a favor and go the back way, will you?”

The girl crinkled her nose at him. “The back way?”

Eli understood what he was asking. The back way would lead her through the citadel's sanitation areas and the kitchens and would take her an extra fifteen minutes to get to where she was headed.

“Please,” was all he said.

She breathed out an overly dramatic sigh. “Fine. But you owe me.”

He chuckled. “Okay.”

She pointed a threatening finger at him. “And not like that time on Avidich.”

His eyes briefly closed, remembering. “Alright. I’ll get you your yapels.”

“Thank you,” she said with a definitive nod before turning away. 

Eli watched her go, waiting until she’d rounded a corner before meeting the Patriarch. 

“Good day, Commander.”

Eli returned the greeting, acknowledging the two Chiss standing guard on either side of him. 

“There was no need to send your charge away. She could have joined us, if she wanted.” 

_And risk you learning anything about her? Not a chance._

The Syndicure knew of the sky-walkers, knew what glory they brought to the Ascendancy, but they did not know the full extent of what they were capable of. That knowledge was meant to be a guarded secret that only ranking bridge members were aware of.

“She had an errand to run,” Eli said plainly. “Is there anything I can help you with?” 

Thurfian eyed him. “I wonder if you’ll take a walk with me.”

Eli feigned surprise. “I’d be honored.” 

Strolling leisurely toward what Eli knew was the Hall of Remembrance, Thurfian spoke. “Ar’alani tells me you’ve become somewhat of a spectacle among us.”

Eli hesitated. “I can’t imagine myself performing any differently than any other Chiss warrior.”

“Ah,” Thurfian protested. “But you are not Chiss, are you?”

“That’s not what I meant-”

“I know what you meant,” Thurfian cut him off. “And what you meant is hardly of consequence, my dear boy, for perspective is at the heart of every interpretation.” 

Eli took a breath. “Perspective, sir?”

They had entered a long corridor lined with plaques and illustrations of revered, long dead but not forgotten, men and women; a Hall commemorating the Ascendancy’s greatest heros. Thurfian’s guards paused at the entrance. 

“Tell me, Commander,” the Patriarch said, continuing on. “Do humans take much stake in personal legacies?”

Eli started, not expecting to receive a lecture on morality from the head of a ruling family. He found his voice. “I believe we all have a moral responsibility to be conscientious of what we leave behind.”

“Ah,” Thurfian said with a tight smile. “Ethical obligations. Not quite what I was referring to.”

Eli suppressed the eyeroll. “Then I’m not entirely sure-”

“Before Thrawn lent you to us,” Eli bristled at the sound of his name. “Did he tell you of the terms of his exile?”

Eli didn’t trust his voice enough to speak so he just shook his head, their footsteps echoing in the silence. 

“Let’s just say we all hoped he’d return triumphant.”

Eli thought Thrawn had told him enough; about how the Ascendancy had sent him to the Empire with a mission to obtain allies to aid his people in the inevitable wars to come. Eli had become one of those allies, and had always assumed the threat would come from without. After learning of Thrawn’s distrust in his own family, the human was beginning to understand. 

“To improve your family’s position?” 

Thurfian tsked. “We had hoped his success would prove beneficial to us all.”

Eli stared at him, feeling the snide retort burning on the tip of his tongue. Thurfian could spout Ascendancy cohesion and family cooperation all he wanted but Eli knew better. If Thurfian was the one who had initiated Thrawn’s mission to the Empire, his triumph would benefit the Mitth official the most. Which made sense as to why he was the one sponsoring the searches for the missing Chiss. It had been Thurfian, Eli was sure of it. If not to simply rid the Ascendancy of who many people viewed as a turbulent risk, then to have him return, decorated and honored, with invaluable knowledge for the Chiss people. What prestige that would bring upon a single official's legacy…

“I understand,” Eli said, smiling tightly. “My apologies. In some ways, Chiss culture is still a mystery to me. I suppose it still baffles me how the success of others can be reclaimed to enhance another’s political standing.” 

Thurfian straightened and Eli could almost see the dark clouds swirling in the other man’s eyes. 

“You see, humans claim their own successes.” He met the other’s fiery gaze. “And give credit where credit is due.” 

Thurfian’s eyes narrowed and Eli fought the urge to glance toward the guards waiting near the entrance. The Patriarch could so easily have him arrested if he stepped too far over the line. 

“Well,” Thurfian said coolly. “I suppose that individual line of thinking is why you will never truly be one of us.”

Eli swallowed. He supposed he’d deserved that, and it could have been worse.

“I will have Ar’alani inform me of when you return to the search for Thrawn,” the Patriarch said softly. “Finding him is vital to the Ascendancy, after all. I suspect you won’t be planetside for long.”

And with that he left, leaving Eli in the elongated chamber alone. He let out a long breath through pursed lips. 

He was playing with fire; he knew that. But he’d done so for years with Thrawn in the Empire. He was no stranger to subtle digs and attacks made off the tactical board. He liked to think he knew better than Thrawn the intricacies of political maneuvering and with any luck those skills would help him survive whatever behind-the-scenes battle was about to begin. Hopefully, without being burned _too_ badly. 

//

The incognito wink and smirk from across the sky-walker’s training room that Ezra had given Vanto upon seeing him again just wasn’t enough. The human hadn’t even flinched at the gesture. It hadn’t made him uncomfortable or forced him to do a double take or anything. It was almost like he hadn’t even noticed. 

After that brief sighting, Vanto was called from the room and Ezra was feeling grossly unsatisfied with how their first meeting, post-discovery, had gone. Vah’nya said the Admiral had asked to see Vanto and Ezra quickly made it his personal mission to get the man alone before the day was out. He had to know what was going on. So far he’d done what everyone had asked of him. Now, he felt he deserved some answers. 

He’d eventually found the human after midday meal, tucked away in a room the size of a utility closet. He was hunched over a small desk, littered with pages and files of what looked like dense text and data. Ezra peered inside. In fact, this could very well _be_ a utility closet.

“Do you need something?” Vanto asked.

Ezra jumped. The human hadn’t even turned around.

“N-no,” he said, straightening. “I mean, I figured maybe we could talk. I haven’t seen you since you’ve been… sick.”

No response. The muscles of the commander’s back tightened briefly, but he remained unmoving. Ezra stepped inside, thinking to himself that surely this couldn't be Vanto’s _actual_ office.

“So…” he continued after ten seconds of silence. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, trying to appear casually interested. “How’s the apartment?”

Vanto didn’t respond. Which was just as well, because the question Ezra had asked wasn’t the question he wanted answered. 

“Chilly, perhaps?” He pressed. “Or like… toasty warm?”

Still no response. Ezra assumed Thrawn was with Eli, as that had been his plan, but without actual confirmation he couldn’t be sure.

“Oh, c’mon,” he exclaimed, letting his arms fall to his sides. “You can’t just be gone for a week and not update me about Th-”

Vanto whirled around, taking one large step toward the hatchway. Ezra thought maybe he was going to leave, but instead he palmed the panel near the door. It hissed shut, the locking mechanism sliding into place with a click. Vanto quickly turned a dial on the wall and it flashed from green to red.

“Listen,” he snapped, whipping around to face Ezra. “I don’t know what you were told-”

Ezra had never considered it before, but Vanto might even be an inch shorter than him. Right now it didn’t matter, though, because he felt himself shrinking under that stare.

“-but let me clear some things up. Whatever you think is a joke… _isn’t.”_

Ezra retreated, frowning at the other’s surprise vehemence. 

“I suggest you keep comments like that to yourself,” Vanto continued. “Because it’s never just us here. Ever.”

Ezra averted his gaze.

“You will be watched the entire time you’re here,” Vanto said, lowering his voice slightly. “And if you’re not careful, whatever comes out of your mouth could ruin more than you know.”

Looking into his dark eyes, Ezra saw the flames begin to subside. He nodded sheepishly. “Okay. I'm sorry.” 

Vanto held his gaze, not challenging or looking to pursue an argument, but wanting to make sure Ezra knew just how serious a jesting slip up might be.

The other man ran a hand through his hair. “Just… be careful." He reached over, turning the dial and unlatching the door. "For all of us."

It was at that moment that Ezra realized something about Vanto that he hadn't before. When they'd first met, he hadn't thought much of him. He'd been perplexed as to why everyone - from the other warriors to the young girls, and even the Admiral - held him in such high esteem. He saw it now, and heard it in his voice when he'd said 'all of us.' He was protecting someone, or multiple someone's; his warning hadn't been for himself alone. Ezra saw leadership in that, and strength, and someone worth trusting. Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, he felt as though he was apart of something again. Problem was, he wasn't entirely sure what that something was.

And now wasn't the time to ask. Before this, Ezra figured they were relatively safe here, on this icicle of a planet. Now, after Vanto's warning, he wasn't so sure. 

“Can I…” Ezra started, understanding that he was never to ask about Vanto’s apartment again. “Can I help you with something?”

There was a brief pause as Vanto retook his seat. “Yeah,” he said, nodding towards a pile on the corner of his desk. “Actually you can. Vah’nya needs those records. No - under the questis - yeah those,” he turned to his console. “You can bring them to her.”

Ezra perked up. “Certainly. I can do that. Totally.”

Vanto met his gaze curiously. “Can you?”

“Yes,” Ezra hissed, tucking the file under his arm. 

He turned to leave.

“Hey, Bridger.”

Ezra turned around. Vanto stood and allowed the desk to support his weight as he leaned against it. He let out a breath, meeting Ezra’s restless gaze. “Not that it’s any of your business, but the apartment is fine.” He paused. “Kay?”

Ezra watched him a moment, expecting to see a hint of color in his cheeks or feel a ripple of evasion through the Force. But the human remained solid.

He nodded. “Kay. Give it my regards, I guess. And uh… let me know if there’s anything else I can do.” 

The corner of Vanto’s mouth curved upward. “I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regarding continuity: Navigators train on Naporar, but for geographical convenience… they’re on Csilla for this. XD


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm terrible at giving trigger warnings. I'll try to be better at it. Therefore: brief mention of blood and a mild nightmare scene - not scary, just kinda sad.

Ezra wandered aimlessly around the compound’s perimeter as the snow continuously fell. Large, fluffy snowflakes drifted from the gray clouds above, blanketing the ground in a soft, fresh layer. The wind cut in like icy daggers when it picked up. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. The gloves and goggles helped, though, especially since they provided the perfect disguise. If he stood a little taller — a little straighter — he could probably pass for a Chiss if no one saw his pale complexion.

Technically, he wasn’t supposed to be outside. But this was where he felt the most alive; the most in tune with the Force. 

Outside. Where he could _feel_ something. He stopped walking and placed his hand on the exterior paneling of the citadel. It felt cool. He closed his eyes and sank into the familiar webbing of the Force. Millions — billions of pathways connected everything and everyone. It’s vastness used to set his mind into a whirlwind of overwhelming chaos, but once he tapped into it — 

Inhale.

Exhale.

His heart rate slowed. His body temperature regulated. The cold of the durasteel through his glove fell away and there was nothing but peace and calm and — 

_Kanan._

He was here. He _felt_ him here; the same steady presence he’d grown to rely on, grown to miss — 

And then he was gone.

Trying not to let his desperation turn to panic, Ezra reached out further — 

And felt him slip through his mental grasp. 

He was left alone again.

With nothing. Not a heading, not a clue, not a clear indication as to which way was forward or what he was supposed to do.

He bowed his chin to his chest and let his hand slide down the building’s outer wall. Being here for as long as he had, becoming acquainted with Vanto and his work, connecting to the girls… he just needed a _sign._ Anything to ease his mind and assure him that he was indeed on the right path. 

He heard, or felt rather, them circling like a pack of grassland lionesses ready to pounce. There wasn’t much time to properly compare the similarities; how there were substantially more females here than males. How much of the Fleet’s success and livelihood fell on them.

Distracted, he didn’t feel it coming until it was too late, until — 

_**Wham.**_

He groaned.

_Not what I meant when I asked for a sign._

A glance to his right alerted him to his attackers: three little girls running back toward the citadel entrance, their playful laughter trailing behind them. And then there was Vah’nya, standing casually with her arms crossed and eyes on him, notably more luminous against the white of the falling snow. She shook her head, chuckling at his misfortune as she started back toward the doors. 

_Great._ He thought, brushing the remnants of the snowball from his jacket. He caught sight of Vanto, standing by the massive durasteel doors, beckoning him back in. 

“Training, today,” Vanto told him with a sly grin when he reached him.

Ezra frowned. _Training?_

“Sky-walkers first,” the commander said over his shoulder. “And then it’ll be our turn.”

//

The opportunity to train with another being was one Ezra would not pass up. Even if it meant he got his ass handed to him by a human that he swore was two inches shorter than him and possessed zero Force abilities.

“Perhaps someone else would be more suited to your level,” Vanto suggested, pulling Ezra to his feet. “Vah’nya,” he called with a smirk, loud enough so that his voice would be heard over the sounds of the others. 

Ezra stifled a groan; he knew Vanto was fucking with him. Pairing him with Vah’nya was just shy of antagonizing. But the Commander flashed him what appeared to be a genuine smile before he walked away; perhaps that meant he was warming up to him. Vah’nya made her way over, grabbing four wooden fighting sticks as she crossed the room. Ezra glanced over her shoulder as she walked over and nearly jumped out of his skin when he caught sight of who had entered the training room.

_It was Thrawn._

Wait. No, the Chiss only looked like Thrawn. A lot like him. 

“Hey, you alright?” Vah’nya asked. He’d been so distracted he barely had time to catch the weapons she’d tossed him. Sticks. Not a lightsaber. Because Ezra didn’t have his.

No matter. “Yeah, I’m good,” he said, twirling the weapons with dangerous speed; stick fighting was his second specialty.

“Is that effective?” she asked with a nod of her chin.

“What?”

“Twirling them like that,” she asked. “Is it intended to be intimidating?”

He stopped spinning the sticks. “What? There’s nothing you do that’s... flashy?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Do we Chiss seem flashy?”

Ezra huffed. The Chiss people, or at least their military, were practically the _opposite_ of flashy, making them that much more dangerous.

Vah’nya walked in a half circle around him, slowly closing the distance between them as she drew nearer, trailing a stick lazily on the ground. “Purpose. Precision.”

And then she moved so fast that he didn’t even have time to raise his weapons. It was all he could do to duck out of the way.

“How to disarm your opponent in the quickest and most energy conserving manner,” she said, striking again at his head then stomach. “That is how we do things.” 

He was ready for both attacks this time, raising one wooden stick to block his face and the other to push hers away from meeting his torso with rib-fracturing force. She lunged forward and he rolled out of the way and into a crouch, cursing under his breath. 

Chiss stick fighting was much different than what he’d learned in the past. For one, they used two sticks almost always. Ezra was used to fighting with one. The cadence and patterns of battle were different, the numbers of moves in a combo were varied and difficult to memorize, and the _speed._ Ezra was convinced within two minutes that Chiss either had superior vestibular systems in which they simply never felt off-balance, or that as a female Vah’nya had learned brute strength would not benefit her. A minute later and Ezra had decided it was both. 

He twirled the stick over his head, spun and swiped. “What about stick handling? Is that not something you practice?”

He wasn’t sure how, but suddenly one of his sticks went flying across the floor. 

She smirked. “Stick handling is part of combat, is it not? Or do you believe they’re independent of each other?”

He growled. Infuriating woman... 

His stick whistled through the air as he aimed a blow at her left shoulder - then right - then her head. 

“I hadn’t realized you Navigators -”

“What?” she asked, dodging an attack of his with inhuman grace. “Trained in combat?”

“I mean, I assumed the warriors did, I just-”

Again, he blinked and his weapon clattered to the floor without him registering what had happened. He found himself staring at the end of a wooden stick.

“And what am I?” she asked.

He swallowed, realizing in horror that he’d offended her. She stepped back, nodding to his weapons strewn across the floor. He quickly grabbed for them and wiped his sweaty palms on the fabric of his pants.

“I know you’re holding back,” she said, quietly so no one else would hear. “I’ve seen what you can do.”

“What do you know of what I can do?” he asked, pushing up his sleeves. He took a breath, clearing his mind.

“Probably as much as you know of what we can.”

Ezra half-shrugged. “I know what Vanto has told me.” Meaning: _I haven’t heard it from a navigator, from someone who might understand what I understand._

“So you know we guide our warships through space?” she took a breath, waiting for his confirmation. “And how do you think we do that?”

She didn’t wait for him to answer, instead attacking with the same fierceness as before. Ezra kept up this time, blocking every strike she threw at him and returning his own when she allowed even a glimpse of an opening.

“So you use the Force?” he asked when there was a break in action.

A look of confusion flashed across her face. Ezra took the opportunity, weaving his sticks over and around hers and locking all four of them in position. Before he could comment further, she released her weapons. Crouching, she snatched them as they fell to the ground and in one swift arcing motion, Ezra’s feet were swept from beneath him, landing him directly on his back with a loud thud. 

She straightened, holding her hand out to haul him up. “I don’t know what that is.”

Breathing heavily, ankles stinging and back throbbing, he chose to take her hand. “Then show me.”

She stared at him, a single bead of sweat running from her brow to her jaw. “I will. If you show me that trick from the other day.”

Ezra frowned, recalling. “When I caught the stick? Um... I can try.” Truthfully, he didn’t know exactly what she was capable of.

A small, teasing grin played on her lips. “Do you doubt your skills, Ezra Bridger?” 

He rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. “Well, no. Not really. I just-”

“Then mine?”

Judging by the clinic she’d just put on… he barked out a laugh. “No, definitely not.”

To Ezra’s dismay, Vanto had made his way around again. “I don’t recall combat sims requiring so much chit chat.” The commander moved to stand before him. “Distracted, Bridger?”

The younger human fought the burning of his cheeks. “Not at all,” he said, straightening.

Vanto hummed in amusement, smiled, and left.

Ezra refocused his attention to Vah’nya, who stepped forward and handed him both the sticks he’d dropped.

“We go again,” she told him. “I know you’re better than that.”

He snorted, not entirely sure that he was.

//

“I ate with your brother today,” Eli told Thrawn that evening as they sat down after last meal for their nightly game of Chiss Chess. 

It was one of Thrawn’s particular favorites. He knew Eli only played, some times after extremely long days, just to humor him. Strategy games kept his mind sharp amidst the boredom of staying in all day. 

“Did you?” The Chiss asked, his tone inflectionless as his eyes scanned the board. 

Eli hummed, keeping eyes on him. 

“Have you given any more thought to speaking with him?”

Thrawn remained silent. He _had_ thought about it, and then quickly stopped thinking about it. Without knowing the details of what was happening behind the Syndicure doors, he wasn’t willing to risk his only possible political connection just to see his blood brother again. If Thrass was at all held responsible for Thrawn’s deceit, his influence in government — should Thrawn ever require it — would likely be nulled. 

Already deciding that he’d redirect the topic of conversation, Thrawn moved his piece and raised his eyes to Eli’s anxiously waiting expression. 

At the sight of him Thrawn’s eyes immediately widened, alarm coursing through him. He burst into action. Grabbing a square of thin paper from the table and, ignoring Eli’s protests, he cupped the side of the human’s face — to which Eli promptly froze — and stuck the tissue right up his left nostril.

After remedying the situation for the time being, the primal instinct to protect faded away and he was struck unmoving by what he’d just done. His fingertips pressed against a vessel in Eli’s neck, pumping blood just below the surface. The human’s skin glowed brighter in Thrawn’s eyes, around his collar and up to his ears. 

“Do you often get nose bleeds?” Thrawn asked. He let his hand fall away. 

Clearly dumbfounded, it took a moment for Eli to regain awareness, inhale and respond. “Uh… yeah.” He waited another moment before pulling the bloodied tissue from his nose and shoving in another. “This is pretty normal.” 

The tension in Thrawn’s shoulders relaxed, a little. Eli had been injured in the past; given a black eye in combat training, twisted his ankle once so badly that Thrawn ended up carrying him through the jungle. He’d even been shot once in a fire fight. Being human meant he was characteristically fragile. So why Thrawn’s pulse had quickened at the sight of his blood, and why he’d been driven to act faster than a Gungan’s tongue snatching its next meal, threw him for a metaphorical loop. 

“It’s cold here, ya know.” Eli chuckled, making a face and pointing to himself. “Delicate human, remember?” 

Thrawn cleared his throat. “Is there nothing that can be done?”

Eli’s eyes lit up when he grinned. “This isn’t one of those fix-it situations, I’m afraid.” He shrugged. “It’s just me being human.”

Thrawn nodded reluctantly as if that was something he wasn't willing to accept, then returned to his seat. Flexing his hand under the table and recalling the warmth of Eli’s skin, he found himself wondering what Eli would do if he reached out again and what it would take for that to be feasible. 

“Your move.” 

//

Eli woke in a panic, his frantic heart pounding in an effort to pass through bone and tissue and eject clean out of his chest. Sitting bolt upright he gasped on the cool air, choking on it as he struggled getting it into his system and to his lungs and brain. Relief washed over him when he caught sight of his dresser and uniform hanging on his closet door, comforted by the familiarity and safety of his own room. Wiping away a bead or two of moisture from his brow, he glimpsed who had come into his room and was now standing at his bedside. Eli willed his body to collapse in on itself, his cheeks flaring up as bright as the Csillan sky on Liberty Day. 

“Eli?” Thrawn asked hesitantly.

The human blinked up at him, heat rising to the tips of his ears now. He should probably turn the light on, get up and walk around. That usually took the edge off after a bad dream. But Thrawn’s intense stare had him feeling like he was glued to the spot. Did Thrawn know what he’d been dreaming? His rapid breathing slowed and subsided. 

“I’m… fine.”

Two red eyes softened in understanding. “Night terror.”

It wasn't spoken as a question. And as if it wasn’t bad enough that Thrawn caught him in this state, the Chiss placed a hand on his shoulder. It felt warmer than what Eli would’ve guessed. “You were moaning in your sleep.”

Eli thought he’d die of embarrassment as he dropped his gaze from that kind expression; torn between wishing the Chiss would just leave, or... 

Thrawn’s thumb caressed the curve of his shoulder, dipping under the collar of his askew sleep shirt to graze over the ridge of his collarbone. He swallowed hard. 

“It’s… it’s nothing.” Eli stuttered. “Thanks for checking on me, though. Sorry for disturbing you.” 

“You did not disturb me,” Thrawn assured him, retracting his hand. “I was awake.”

Eli acknowledged this with a dismissive nod, passing a palm over his damp forehead. Thrawn did not move, standing motionless at the side of his bed.

“Like I said, thanks for checking on me,” Eli said softly, chancing a look up at him. “But I’ll be fine.”

“I have no intention of leaving,” Thrawn informed him in that velvety smooth voice. “Unless you’d prefer I did.”

Eli’s heart fluttered in his chest. Surely he didn’t mean…

_No._

But his mind raced, formulating all sorts of nerve-racking uncertainties. If he allowed Thrawn to stay, who would read more into it? Him or Thrawn? If he asked him to leave — if he pushed him away — would the gesture ever be offered again? 

It was really all too much for Eli.

“That’s alright. I’ll be fine.”

He looked away, waiting for the imposing man at his side to leave so he could decode and pace and perseverate and likely get zero sleep for the rest of the night. 

“Are you sure?”

An image from Eli’s dream flashed across the forefront of his mind, harrowing and heartbreaking. The feeling it brought forth ripped into his chest — the fear of loss, of loving an entity that no longer existed in the physical universe, who would no longer bring him comfort or even frustration…

Eli tried to hide his smile at that, fighting the burning sensation in his nose as moisture threatened to form in his eyes. 

But Thrawn was here now; close enough to touch. 

Their eyes met, and the truth crashed over him like a breaking wave. Not cold and crisp like ocean waters but genuine and soothing like coming home. Thrawn would not leave him; not again. Being alone could be a thing of the past for him if he just...

He scooted silently across the bed, creating an open space for Thrawn to sit beside him. He leaned against the headboard, not entirely sure what Thrawn would do until the mattress sank under the other’s weight as he lowered himself onto Eli’s bed with him. 

At first they just sat there in the silent darkness. The soft glow beside Eli would disappear every so often when Thrawn blinked. 

“Would you like to talk about it?” Thrawn asked, prying ever so gently.

Eli shook his head and wrapped his arms around his middle. He wasn’t sure he was ready just yet. The last time they’d sat this close, he had woken up with his head resting on Thrawn’s shoulder. It had been entirely accidental then, but now… without warning, without preamble, an arm came tentatively around him and Eli felt his body go rigid. It was a reflex he couldn’t fight, although he tried - tried pretending his heart wasn’t racing, tried releasing the tension in his shoulders. He told himself to breathe so he wouldn’t start hyperventilating. Thrawn, being the most intuitive man he knew, moved to retract his arm from around Eli’s shoulders, which sent Eli into a sudden spiral of panic and a mental litany of frantic _oh no’s._ He didn’t trust his voice to speak and he refused to look him in the eye, so he reached out and grabbed a handful of Thrawn’s shirt. 

_Stay._

The other man froze. Very slowly, as if afraid Eli might retreat away from him or detonate, he replaced his arm. And after what felt like ten minutes of talking himself into it — although admittedly it was probably only a second — Eli relaxed, half in Thrawn’s arms, half against the headboard. 

He rotated a fraction of a degree, bending his head until the soft fabric of Thrawn’s shirt brushed his cheek. The glow from Thrawn’s eyes shone visibly on Eli's own nose. He was so close that when he inhaled, his olfactory receptors brimmed over with his scent, bringing forth an array of scattered memories from over the many years. There was something inherently _right_ about this. Eli relaxed further in his embrace and allowed his eyes to fall shut.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when a low grumble resonated from Thrawn. Eli moaned groggily in response, on the verge of surrendering to sleep. It wasn’t until just before he actually dozed off that from some far and elusive feed, he realized the sound from Thrawn had been his spoken name, low and questioning. 

But Eli was too tired to partake in any form of conversation right now. Perhaps Thrawn understood that, because he chose not to speak again and Eli drifted off in his arms moments later, to a peaceful and uninterrupted sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m posting this from my phone today because life is crazy right now. Sorry for any formatting issues! : )

“Take the controls.”

Ezra hadn’t asked Vah’nya how she’d managed to obtain a shuttle, but he suspected it had something to do with Eli Vanto. Currently, _how_ wasn’t the most pressing of concerns, however. He was far more worried about returning said shuttle unscathed. 

“This will be almost identical to the simulations,” Vah’nya told him, flipping a few switches on the console. “Alright, close your eyes.”

Ezra did so. There was a pause, and then a soft chuckling bubbled up beside him.

“Breathe,” she encouraged him. As if trying to ease the tension from his body she reached out, took him by the shoulder, and gently shook it. “Relax.”

Easier said than done when she was _touching_ him.

“Better,” she said, hand falling away. “This is where you envision your destination. It can be coordinates or a planet or a system — whatever works for you. Most of the time you’re given specific coordinates, so aim for those. Then you’ll chart your path. Stay away from gravity wells and black holes —”  


“And solar storms and other hyperlanes-”  


“And magnetospheres and random debris-”  


Opening his eyes, he fixed her with a sardonic stare.  


She grinned. “You’ll be fine.” She reached over, toggling a switch and the dial in front of him turned green. “We’ll start with somewhere close. Good captains pull you out and let you rest on long voyages, but not everyone does that. Are you ready?”  


The thought flitted across his mind that she was _actually_ trusting him to do this. He could wreck the ship, he could get them lost, he could fly them straight into an asteroid —  


“You’re going to do great,” she soothed, her tone softening in a way he hadn’t heard before. “Whenever you’re ready.”  


He breathed, reaching out with the Force and searching through the Chaos to find his coordinates. Backtracking his way across the lightyears, he chose the safest route, bowed his head and pushed the lever forward.

//

  


Thrawn placed the small transmitter device on the entry table, exactly where Eli had left it the first night he’d come home. It had been Thrawn’s intent to ask him about it last night. The moment had seemed right. But considering it had taken Eli much longer than expected to relax in Thrawn’s arms, Thrawn had chosen to let him rest. He had assumed Eli would accept the comfort he’d offered with grace. That hadn’t been the case.

It had been a small gesture, one that could easily be mistaken for something ‘just a friend’ might do. But if the human statue Thrawn had tried to console for the first few minutes was an indication, it was clear that Eli Vanto wasn’t ready. The ease of eyeing someone appraisingly from a distance was a far cry from granting them a license to intimacy, let alone any physical touch. 

This would take time; there were barriers that required lowering. And Thrawn was nothing if not patient.

He set to work preparing the morning meal for both of them, something he normally did not do. All the while he recalled the weight of the other’s head on his chest, the sound of his rhythmic breathing, the heat of his body, the scent of his hair and - with bubbling curiosity - the reason he had entered Eli’s room in the first place. 

//

Ezra’s eyes opened and his hands slipped from the nav-controls. Blinking his vision clear, he glanced out the viewport to see a gold, shimmering planet looming ahead, it’s many bright rings displayed diagonally across its atmosphere. He stretched, finding his back and neck muscles tight and unyielding.  


“Well done,” Vah’nya said beside him, flipping a few post-jump switches. “You’ll get used to it,” she added kindly, noting his discomfort. “It helps to get up and walk around.”  


Easily accepting her word on the subject as law, he stood to stretch, barely able to raise his arms above his head in the small shuttle without punching a hole through the ceiling.  


“You got us here in one piece,” she commented good-naturedly.  


Ezra leaned over her shoulder, squinting out the viewport. “That’s good. And is ‘here’ our intended destination?”  


She chuckled. “Yes,” She threw him a swift glance over her shoulder. “My home.”  


Ezra started. Bringing him home to the family?  


_Well, that was fast._  


She guessed his expression. “I mean, it _was_ my home. Technically I belong to no family. But I was born of Dasklo blood.”  


Ezra had no idea what that meant.  


“Chiss families are proud, possessive even, of their blood relatives, especially,” Vah’nya explained. “When I was born, our family was the First Family.”  
“Who is the First Family now?”  


“The Irizi,” she said coolly. Ezra retook his seat, settling in for what he sensed would be a long explanation. Swiveling around, he rotated his chair so he could face her. “My family, my birth parents - many parents throughout the Ascendancy, in fact - hope to boost their Family’s reputation among the Nine Ruling by…” she paused as if the air had been sucked from her lungs. “supplying our armed forces with their Seeing offspring,” her voice grew even fainter still. Ezra swore there was an edge to it. “Sometimes it works.”  


He glanced over, catching her expression, cool and smooth as glass. “Sometimes it doesn’t.”  


With an intensity Ezra didn’t understand, she stared down at the planet below. Her distant gaze focused solely on the golden world, but her eyes were glossed over as though peering at an inanimate object void of all life.  


She shook her head, sighing. “So my family became the Second Family. And then the Ufsa turned out a few blazing-stars. They purchased the right corridor along the right trade-lane and of course moved up.”  


The glossiness to her eyes evaporated and her gaze cleared again. She looked over. “It’s all politics.”  


He nodded like he understood when really he never would. Vah’nya’s family had traded her to secure their standing, and for what? They had been demoted anyhow.  


“We’re taken from our families when we’re very young,” she explained. “What I remember are images, feelings really, that I can’t be sure actually happened.”  


Ezra nodded again, this time understanding. He sometimes he felt that way about memories of his family, too.  


“But the Fleet is my family now.” She straightened, flipping a couple switches on the terminal and one off to the side. The ship powered down, the console going dark. “Unless I’m adopted into another one.”  


Ezra bit his tongue to keep himself from asking if she’d join the Dasklo again. He leaned casually back in his seat, unsure as to why they were suddenly drifting lifeless through space, in silent orbit around a planet in which they seemed to have no intention of visiting. It was a beautiful planet, though, as far as planets go.  


“It was the same way with initiates in the Jedi Order,” Ezra ventured. “Taken from their families to be trained, sometimes even before they could walk, or crawl.”  


Vah’nya shook her head, but said nothing. Ezra knew it wasn’t his place to pry. Instead, he offered sympathy. He hadn’t realized there were so many similarities between the Chiss sky-walkers and the Jedi of old.  
“The life of a navigator must be hard,” he said softly.  


A thin smile tugged at her lips. “I was lucky to be part of the CDF, I suppose. Just like how some families offer up their young as gifts to the Greater Good, some are stolen and offered up as gifts for... other purposes.”  


A cold, sickening sensation crept up Ezra’s spine. “What other purposes?”  


The light out the viewport and the subsequent radiant glow from the planet below cast eerie shadows across her face. Mixed with the glow from her eyes, her expression turned bleak. Ezra felt the shift within her, like a storm brewing beneath her usual cool, calm exterior.  


“Enslaving free worlds. Navigating entire armadas into systems without military support or even simple defenses. Act as the getaway vessel for countless atrocities across the Chaos. All the while being treated worse than criminals and expected to do as commanded without question.”  


Ezra frowned at the woman in astonishment. He had heard of what the Emperor did to Force-sensitives that were discovered after the Purge. Many of them didn’t stand a chance. He supposed those who survived and fell victim to the reconditioning were robbed of their sense of morality. He’d always figured they’d been too far gone. Perhaps some of them were, but maybe not all.  


Ezra knew enough about the Chiss people that there was no doubt in his mind that the being Vah’nya spoke of had been a child, a girl, an innocent. A precious being to be cherished and nurtured, not used for a gift they hadn’t asked for, in such a way that their young souls would be forever burdened with remorse and regret. Where some saw vulnerability to be protected, others sought to exploit it.  


He clenched his fists, his sharp nails digging into the soft flesh of his palm.  


“I’m sorry,” was all he felt was appropriate.  
She turned and forced a grin.  


“Did you save them?” he asked her, elaborating when she frowned at the question. “Whoever it was. Did you save them?”  


It was hard for Ezra to tell, because he’d never seen a Chiss cry, but he was pretty sure those were tears in Vah’nya’s eyes.  


She nodded. “Yes, but there are more out there. I’m sure of it.”  


He waited a few minutes before changing the subject, not wanting to come off as dismissive but also knowing that if this date was to pick up at all, a change of topic was desperately needed.  


He sighed. “So…” he waved to the controls. “If it’s not the Force… what is it?”  


A small, distant smile graced her lips. “We call it Sight. Some call it the Great Presence. It is… vast. It encompasses everything, the whole universe.”  


A nod from Ezra supplemented his understanding. “That sounds like the Force.”  


Vah’nya cocked her head to the side.  


Ezra shrugged. “We see it as an energy field that keeps the balance between all things. Positive and negative. Good and evil.”  


“It possesses a magnetic pull? Like it attracts opposites?”  


He looked into her eyes and swallowed. _Opposites._  


“N-no,” he began. “I just mean… like you said, it encompasses everything. There are different ways to harness it. For us there are multiple components; the differences between meditation and... lifting rocks. Seeing the future and communing with those we’ve lost.”  


Vah’nya raised her eyebrows, humming thoughtfully. “So what about Third and Second Sight? Third Sight is how we navigate through space, Second Sight is how we navigate through minds.”  


Ezra remained silent for a few breaths, recalling what she’d said about sky-walkers becoming lost inside another’s soul. He swallowed.  


“My best guest would be that you’re probably more in tune with the Unifying Force,” he smiled at her, shrugging a little. “That’s what they call it.”  


“They? This Order of yours?” Vah’nya wondered aloud. “Are you trying to get back to them?”  


Ezra felt as though he’d been punched in the gut. He lowered his gaze. “It’s difficult to explain.” No, he wasn’t trying to get back to an Order he’d never been a member of. But there had been an order to his life that he now lacked, and never knew if he’d experience again. He inhaled, releasing the breath with more force than he’d meant. “It’s complicated.”  


Vah’nya reached out and placed her hand on his forearm. Her touch was warm and feather-light. “I know complicated.”  


He returned her sweet smile. Completely unprovoked, her smile faded and her eyes darkened. Her expression transitioned rapidly from confused to surprised to sympathetic all before Ezra finished thinking _shitibrokeher._  


She released his arm, silent and staring as she pulled back and away from him. Unsure if speaking now would help or harm the situation, he sat quietly, trying to keep his expression neutral but in his mind the alarms were blaring louder than any klaxon he’d ever heard.  


_What now?_  


“You know, Ezra,” she finally said. He jumped at the sound of his name. Had she ever called him that before? “We’ve all done things we’re not proud of.”  
Panic coursed through him. _Well, that doesn’t narrow much down…_  


She continued. “Life is difficult for everyone. Some harder than others, but still… what’s important is that we keep going.” She smiled at him. “You know, we’re more alike than you know. You and I.”

 _I’m gathering that._  


“Don’t give up hope, Ezra,” she said, sighing and leaning back in her seat. “The sky is always darkest just before it goes completely black.”

Ezra thought on that for a minute. It sounded like some ancient Jedi wisdom. Except ominous and foreboding and not at all uplifting. Perhaps he’d missed its meaning. Curious, he turned to Vah’nya. “What does that even mean?”

“I don't know,” she confessed, her laughter startling him. It was infectious.

For the next hour they floated, watching the planet from different angles as their ship rotated without help from its thrusters. He realized that they could be here for a number of reasons, but one absolute and thrilling reason was that Vah’nya had chosen to bring him here, of all places. He couldn’t help but feel some sort of way about that. And so, as he watched her beautiful smile light up her face and her eyes dance when she laughed, Ezra’s fingers twitched in his lap, wanting to reach for her like she’d reached for him.

//

Eli woke alone, to a gentle tapping against the window. It wasn’t rain, exactly, more like tiny ice pelts that stung like nettle flies when they met any area of exposed skin. The smell of savory breakfast meats wafted into his room through the cracked door. It made his stomach rumble and he shuffled out of bed, limbs heavy and mind groggy. 

Thrawn…

He closed his eyes, and breathed in deeply.

 _Right._

“Are you…” he said when he reached the dining room table, speaking to the man he’d unceremoniously fell asleep on… again. “Are you making me breakfast?” 

Thrawn glanced over his shoulder. “It is the most important meal of the day for humans, and I’ve noticed you’ve neglected to make time for it.”

Eli’s cheeks flushed as he lowered himself into a chair at the already set table. 

“You really don’t have to wait on me, you know,” Eli told him, just as Thrawn brought over a glass filled with juice.

“It’s the least I can do,” Thrawn insisted, giving him a small smile. “I am grateful for you allowing me to stay here.” 

Something was off. Eli couldn’t be sure what it was but Thrawn was acting oddly… attentive. He watched the Chiss sit down and begin buttering his own toast. Eli was half expecting him to butter his, too. 

Last night flashed across Eli’s mind again, sparking an inkling of recollection and understanding. The last time this had happened, it had been Un’hee who had spent an entire day continuously checking on him, making sure he didn’t need anything, offering her assistance at every turn. She’d even given him her brownie at lunch.

“I said your name…” the human said bluntly, staring at Thrawn and watching his movements slow. “In my dream.” Thrawn didn’t meet his gaze. “Didn’t I?”

After a moment of Thrawn staring at his plate, he nodded reluctantly. 

Eli warmed with embarrassment and agitation. The last thing he wanted was to be coddled, or pitied. Especially by Thrawn. Now he had to explain to him that it really _wasn’t_ a big deal. It happened all the time.

 _Er-_

Maybe he shouldn’t say that.

He sighed. It was far too early for this.

“I am not offended.” Thrawn told him in a gentle tone Eli was unfamiliar with. “Nor do I think less of you.”

Eli met his sincere gaze, trying to keep his expression neutral. 

“You thought I was gone.” Thrawn quietly deduced, lowering his eyes to his plate once again. The room fell silent, the only sound that of the freezing rain’s constant patter against the glass. Eli found the sound calming and focused on it to clear his mind before he spoke, but Thrawn beat him to it. “Ar’alani had given you a mission and you thought you’d failed.” He chanced a quick glance at him. “Especially after the island. Your residual concern is understandable.”

Eli’s brows knitted together in confusion. So Thrawn thought his discontent was related to his CDF position? 

“And I cannot fault you for your commitment or personal investment in an assignment.” 

The tone of his voice eased a piece of Eli’s aching heart, even if he was wrong. 

“I have known you for many years, Eli,” Thrawn continued quietly. “And I’ve seen how fully you immerse yourself in any given task.”

Eli couldn’t stop the heat rushing to his cheeks. 

“But I am here now,” his soothing tone derailed Eli. “And unless there is another reason for your distress in my absence…”

Eli was forgetting how to breathe. Thrawn _had_ to know. He wouldn’t be saying these things if he didn’t. But then why would he think Eli’s concern was still due to his assigned task? He was wrong, of course. It had been known to happen, however seldomly. Perhaps… Eli’s shoulders sagged with the thought… perhaps it was because Thrawn couldn’t possibly see him as anything other than another soldier. 

He groaned inwardly. This was too much to unpack before caf.

“No,” he managed. “There is no other reason. Thanks…” He hesitated, taking a moment to formulate the least incriminating sentence. “For understanding.”

He stood, avoiding Thrawn’s gaze as he rolled up his unbuttered toast and a piece of sausage in a napkin.

“And thanks for breakfast,” he added. “I’m running late, though. I should go.”

Thrawn’s eyes flicked toward the chrono on the wall, but the man remained silent. Eli was grateful to him for ignoring that he was twenty minutes _early_ in leaving. 

“I’ll see you tonight,” Eli informed him, grabbing his bag and hurrying out the door. He hoped that the guilt he felt at seeing Thrawn’s wounded expression would fade before he returned home that evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vah’nya’s obscure words of advice are a direct quote from Thrawn: Ascendancy and the man Timmy Z himself. And much like Vah’nya and Ezra, I have no idea what they mean.


	13. Chapter 13

There were many things about Chiss sky-walkers that baffled Ezra. He didn’t understand why they were mostly girls, he didn’t understand why they were no more than children, and he didn’t understand why former sky-walkers were nowhere to be found. Which was why, he quickly gathered, _this_ was so extraordinarily rare. As soon as the girls reached age fourteen they high tailed it out of there and in most cases were adopted into one of the Ruling Families, to go on to lead lavish, exciting lives that would no longer be threatened and placed in constant danger. They did not reenlist and they did not become momishes – which Ezra learned were their caregivers, older females who had next to zero understanding of what their younger charges were capable of. 

Apparently, the unspoken rule about ex-navigators disappearing off the face of the starcharts had been revoked. So here they were, gathered within the space of what was typically the citadel’s mess hall. It had been decked out in elaborate party decorations and the band had recently started up a lively tune that Ezra found not overly-stuffy. A variety of drinks lined a table along one wall, while the other was lined with foods from various Chiss worlds. Ezra strode along, keeping his head down for the most part. He wasn't entirely convinced he belonged here, but Vah’nya had invited him so naturally, he wouldn't miss it for a first class trip back home. Eyeing the snacks, he chose a delectable dessert that he deemed fairly safe because he’d tried it before. He caught sight of Vah’nya speaking to what he assumed were two former navigators and hid his grin behind his glass. She was the only being that Ezra knew here. The other currently active sky-walkers had not been given permission to attend the reunion.

She looked over and caught his eye, and before he could pretend that he hadn’t just been staring at her, she waved him over with a smile. He made his way through the crowd, dodging those brave enough to dance without more than one drink. On his way over, Ezra downed his and set the empty glass on a table nearby. 

“Another human?” the younger of the two Vah’nya was conversing with said. She was dressed in a CDF pilot’s uniform and was munching on a bag of junk food. “You guys are all over the place.”

Ezra just smiled. He hadn’t actually seen Hammerly or the other Imperials for a while now. 

“The ones in the tech labs are practically rebuilding all of our ships,” she continued. “I assume since you’re not working with them you’re… doing something else?”

Well, he was _supposed_ to be. Truthfully, he hadn’t done much of anything besides act as Vanto’s aide, running files and copying data cards and helping with a sky-walker class every now and then. Ezra was starting to think that Vanto didn’t actually _have_ a plan. Which meant Ezra’s presence here was next to useless. 

The young woman didn’t wait for him to answer. “I don’t mean to pry if whatever you’re doing is top secret, of course. You can call me Che’ri, by the way,” she said, holding out her bag of yapels. “Want some?”

Ezra made a face. “No, thanks.”

The older Chiss female standing beside Che’ri cleared her throat. She turned an expectant and somewhat irritated look at her. “What?”

“You know what,” the other said quietly.

Vah’nya interrupted what was sure to be an interesting argument. Ezra wished she hadn’t. Judging by the women’s looks and body language, they’d known each other for sometime, and the argument had to have been one they’d had many times. He wanted to find out what the other’s issue was with Che’ri introducing herself to him, or was it her offering him yapels? It had to have been one of those that had irritated the other.

“This is Councilor Mitth’ali’astov,” Vah’nya said, introducing the official for Ezra. She took his arm and he instantly felt warm. “And this is the human sky-walker, Ezra Bridger.”

The councilor’s eyes widened in surprise. “What an honor for us. I imagine...” She paused and glanced toward the pilot. “... Che’ri is right. You must be doing important work for us here. I assume you’re working with-”

“Thalias.”

The councilor’s face broke into a wide smile when she caught sight of who had called. Ezra turned; he’d been wondering when he’d show up. The young Jedi knew he had not perfected the whole tranquil, stoic-front, which was made obvious by his look of blatant surprise when Vanto wrapped his arms around the councilor in a welcoming embrace. “It is good to see you.”

When they separated the woman’s hand remained curved lightly around his shoulder. Ezra frowned. These two were close, which he supposed should have been evident as he’d never seen Chiss hug. How exactly were these two acquainted?

“I ran into-”

“Yes, he told me,” the woman’s hand slipped from Vanto’s shoulder, her eyes going distant and her voice going soft. “He said it wasn’t for long.”

Something about that statement seemed to wound the other man. Ezra’s curiosity was growing by the second. Looking to Vah’nya, he hoped to glean even an ounce of information from an expression or gesture; perhaps he’d be able to read something in her eyes. But Vah’nya was watching the ground, as was Che’ri, offering their best effort to afford the other two some privacy in this very public setting. 

“I heard he was made Speaker,” Vanto muttered with a small smile. Ezra could tell it wasn’t really what he wanted to say. But the woman, Thalias, just smiled politely. It was silent for a moment and Ezra thought about offering to try Che’ri’s yapels just to break the awkward tension, but then Thalias moved, shifting a little so that her back was toward them.

“No one blames you, Eli,” the woman said softly. “He doesn’t. I don’t. No one has given up hope of finding him.”

Ezra chanced a half confused, half sympathetic glance at Vanto. The other human had kicked his ass in combat training, nearly yelled at him in defense of Thrawn, and would protect the sky-walkers with everything he had when it came down to it but now, Ezra could see that the commander was at a loss for words. He just stood there, mouth agape and staring at Thalias with a pained expression that only Ezra understood because Thrawn was alive and well, but no one knew that except for them. This woman had to be a member of Thrawn’s family. It was the only explanation as to why Vanto was looking like that; like it destroyed him not to tell her. And Ezra, being the only other one to know where Thrawn _actually_ was... felt for the man. 

“You know, it may not be my place,” Ezra began slowly as everyone turned to face him. “But I knew Thrawn distantly for years, and then through a series of completely unforeseeable and unexpected events we became much closer. But anyway, if there’s anything I know for sure, it’s that he always has a plan.” He glanced at Vah’nya, who smiled at him. “So wherever he is, maybe we just let him stay there. For the time being. I mean, it’s Thrawn. I don’t doubt for a second that he’s anywhere other than _exactly_ where he wants to be.”

All eyes were on him, but the only gaze he found was Vanto’s, staring at him in gentle bewilderment. Ezra waited, anxious to see how his attempt at tossing the other a figurative line would be received. They’d had a somewhat rocky start, trust being hard to come by despite their similarities. Vanto still held him at arms length and Ezra couldn’t exactly blame him for that; he knew there was some merit to it. Ezra already knew about Thrawn, and if Vanto shared detailed information regarding the navigators with him he’d be risking everything he held dear.

Ezra let out the breath he’d been holding when Vanto’s lips slowly curved upwards. _Finally,_ he felt like he’d done some good.

Che’ri sighed loudly beside him, popping another yapel into her mouth and chewing vigorously. “Yeah, you’re probably right. We wouldn’t want to ruin his vacation with our selfishness.”

To Ezra’s relief, Thalias made a light-hearted comment at that and the others went back to talking amongst themselves. He paid them little mind, however. Vanto was still watching him, appraisingly now, and after a few seconds beckoned Ezra to follow him with a toss of his head. 

//

“So,” Vanto said, striding casually around the image projector. The two of them were not in his cramped, makeshift, closet-office. Instead, Vanto had brought Ezra to what was probably his _real_ office. It was minimal and clearly hardly ever utilized, but it had all the bells and whistles of a high-ranking official, including a fully stocked kitchenette and the most high tech display panel Ezra had ever seen. 

“What do you think?” Vanto asked briskly, appearing light blue through the opalescent projection as he made his way around.

Ezra started. “What do _I_ think?”

“Well, yeah,” Vanto said, coming to stand beside him in the near darkness, folding his arms across his chest and staring up at the same data as Ezra. “You have the ability to delve into the Force and tap into their minds. I wanna know whatcha think.”

“Well, actually, I can’t tap into anyone’s minds,” Ezra confessed. “Vah’nya told me I’m not allowed.”

They were conversing in Basic, which brought Ezra more joy than he cared to admit. It was simple to understand and simple to express and for the first time in a long time - standing here with another human - Ezra felt somewhat comfortable. 

Vanto threw him a sidelong look, a single eyebrow arching up toward the ceiling. “Interesting. Does that bother you? Not being able to read Vah’nya’s thoughts?”

Comfortable went out the airlock and now Ezra felt like he was being interrogated. He ignored the other man. “However… the other day, and I don’t know how, but she managed to actually get a read on me.” 

“Ah,” Vanto said knowingly. “On your jaunt across space?”

The younger human shot him a look of alarm. “You heard about that?”

“She said you navigated well,” Vanto told him, smiling. “Only had to save you guys from a passin’ cruiser just the one time.”

“What?!”

“Kidding.” He redirected the conversation back to the task at hand. “What do you see?” 

Ezra rolled his eyes, but looking ahead, took a few hesitant steps toward the holo as if getting closer to it meant finding answers faster. Squinting at the multiple charts, graphs and data listings, he tried to make sense of the numbers and Cheunh script that he hadn’t yet memorized. 

“Are these…?”

_Case 35  
Case 282  
Case 104_

“Yeah,” Vanto murmured. “That’s them.”

He tapped a few keys on his questis and one of the listings expanded, blowing up to fill the entire screen. Vanto appeared at his side, pointing to the far left column. “That’s when they first get here. Obviously we only have a limited number of full and up-to-date charts because we just started coding them like this, but it’s a start.” 

Ezra’s eyes followed the numbers across the projection, noting their progressive decline. The patterns spiked every so often, but it was rare and only occurred in a few individuals and only for a short time before decreasing again.

“What is it that’s declining?” Ezra asked.

“Basically their sensitivity,” Vanto explained, scrolling sideways until they reached the end of a single case. “So by the time they reach age fourteen, which is practically adulthood in humans, their numbers have plummeted so low that it would be dangerous and irresponsible to send them out again.”

So that’s when they retire. Except Vah’nya. Vah’nya was much older than fourteen. Ezra noted that the largest decline in almost all of them occurred within the first few weeks of joining the CEDF. It reminded him of something else. “Once you fly a speeder off the lot…”

“Bridger,” Vanto’s voice cut like a whip into his thoughts. “The sky-walkers do not lose _value_ over time.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Ezra argued, raising his palms in defense. “I’m just saying… Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

“Of course it does,” the other agreed. “Which is why I’m curious ‘bout it, and curious as to _what you think.”_

Ezra made a face and shook his head. He’d need more than a list of numbers and five minutes to make sense of any of this. How Vanto could was beyond him…

“How do you…” Ezra waved a hand at the numbers. “How do you know all this?”

Vanto lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “Kinda grew up doin’ it. I was s’posed to be a supply officer in the Navy.”

Ezra stared at him, causing the commander to do a double take once he’d caught sight of the other’s expression.

“What?” Vanto asked. “You thought joinin’ an alien military was always my chosen career path?”

Ezra just chuckled. “I guess not. May I?”

“Yeah, sure,” Vanto said, tapping a few keys and giving Ezra access to minimize, maximize and skim through the various charts and cases with a touch of his hand. He swiped through the air right twice, then left once, then zoomed out.

Taking a step back, Ezra crossed his arms and remained squinting at the soft blue glow. “Is this what you do all day?” he asked softly.

Vanto made a sound in the affirmative.

“No wonder you’re always grumpy,” Ezra muttered. “This would give anyone a headache.”

“Excuse you-”

“This one,” Ezra murmured, pointing absentmindedly at _Case 301_ and following the horizontal line of numbers with his fingers as he walked along the holo. “It’s different. It's the opposite.”

Vanto remained quiet behind him.

“Who is it?”

He hesitated, long enough for Ezra to look suspiciously over his shoulder. It had taken weeks for them to get to this point, for Vanto to either trust or find value in him. Up until now, their communications had been vague and general but this – applying Vanto’s work to his living, breathing, very vulnerable and incredibly valuable navigators, this was anything but vague.

Ezra raised his eyebrows expectantly and Vanto relented. “Un’hee.”

Ezra hummed, fully expecting him to have said Vah’nya. Looking back at the only subject whose numbers showed a consistent incline, he wondered what had caused them to start out so low and what had changed since then. “Well,” he said, returning to stand beside Vanto. “It could just be that their abilities depreciate with age, but I guess it could be something else. But then Un’hee’s makes no sense-” 

“And we don’t have data from when Vah’nya first started, but it would be interesting to know what her numbers were,” Vanto said, pulling up what data they had. “I know they tested her, many times. Kept her navigating inside Chiss space until she was sixteen just in case, but her abilities never faded.”

A three-toned alert sounded from Vanto’s comm. He unlatched the device from his belt with some urgency and checked the notification. Ezra grinned mischievously as a broad smile appeared on the other’s face. Actually, it might very well be the first real smile from Vanto that Ezra had seen all day. 

“Dinner plans?” Ezra asked.

The other smiled even more. “You have no idea.”

//

“Good evening, Eli. I was surprised to receive your call.” Maneuvering out of his official Mitth robes, the other man hung the garment on the hook behind the door. 

“I know, Thrass,” Eli said with a heavy sigh as he closed the door behind him. “And I’m sorry I haven’t had you over. Things have been…”

He wasn’t sure how to explain how living with Thrawn had been. 

Thrass lowered his voice to a somber tone. “It’s alright. No need to explain. I assumed after the _Steadfast_ brought back only humans-”

The Chiss stopped talking when he caught sight of Eli’s expression. He didn’t understand at all. So Eli changed the subject. “Thalias attended the navigator’s reunion. She seems well.”

“More than well, I’d say. Always busy. I can hardly keep up with her,” Thrass followed Eli down the hall. “She-”

The elder Mitth brother's jaw went slack as they entered the dining room, as Eli had expected it might.

Thrass froze, staring at the man seated stiffly on the other side of the wooden table. Eli looked hesitantly back and forth between the two brothers. It had been far too long since the two had seen each other, upwards of two decades even. After Thrass had been rescued, he’d come home to find Thrawn gone. He’d never spoken of his feelings regarding that to Eli, only speaking of it to inform him of the facts, but the human had surmised that Thrass had missed his younger brother dearly. 

Thrawn stood from his seat at the table, Thrass’s eyes rising with him. The smallest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of Thrawn’s mouth. “Hello, brother. Congratulations on your new title.”

Thrass glided forward as if compelled by some cosmic force and gripped Thrawn’s right elbow in greeting, a smile slowly spreading across his face. Eli knew it was an informal Chiss greeting, one meant for friends or family members, but Eli guessed that the gesture had also been to ensure that Thrawn was _actually_ present. 

“I don’t-” he looked to Eli and then back to Thrawn. “I don’t understand.”

Eli took a seat across from Thrawn, so Thrass could sit at the head of the table. “What’s there to understand?”

After he was waved to be seated, Thrass’s eyes narrowed. “What’s the catch?” Apparently ‘missing Thrawn’ wasn’t a strong enough sentiment to make him forget all the complications and intricacies of politics. “Is this one of those things I’ll have to keep quiet or be tried for treason?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Thrass raised eyebrows at both of them.

Eli made a so-so type of expression. “Yes to the keeping-quiet-thing. No to the treason thing. I hope.”

“Not entirely convincing, Eli,” Thrass pointed out. He leaned back in his chair, studying the two of them with skeptical glances. 

“As much of a… _relief_ as it is to finally have you home, brother,” Thrass began. “You cannot honestly expect me to put my entire career on the line…”

“That’s not what we’re asking,” Eli said, and suddenly wished he hadn’t. 

Thrawn spoke suddenly, no doubt saving Eli from a volley of Don’t Encourage Him propaganda from the Syndic. Thrawn understood his brother; understood that he would need reassurance and possibly even persuasion to feel at ease. And Thrawn, should he ever need Thrass’s help, would hope very much that his older brother could steer clear of the figurative political guillotine.

“I asked Eli to invite you here, Thrass,” Thrawn told him. “Not as a government official, but as my brother. Please, humor me and stay a while.”

Thrass considered it.

“It’s been too long,” Thrawn reminded him quietly.

Eli, realizing that perhaps they needed a moment to speak privately, excused himself and decided to wait in the kitchen until their meal was ready to be served.

//

“And you’re staying at the human’s place,” Thrass said, exasperated. 

“Where else would I find the same loyalty?” the younger brother shot back.

“That is not fair, Thrawn,” Thrass said, pointing a finger in his direction. “I did what I could to keep your name off the chopping blocking. It’s not my fault you disappeared. And now you return-”

For the next two minutes Thrass spoke to: 

\- How Thrawn’s return could upset the entire political spectrum.  
\- How when Thrass had returned to Chiss space proper after the Outbound Flight incident, he’d had an entire bonfire’s worth of flames to put out.  
\- How the Ascendancy could have used Thrawn if he hadn’t volunteered to go to the Empire - to which Thrawn shot back that as his unofficial babysitter, Thrass should have been pleased that he’d left.

“Don’t get me wrong, I know you have a strange fascination with humans,” Thrass continued. “But secretly rooming with one for… how long has it been… weeks? Are you out of your-”

“It is more than that, Thrass.”

The elder sibling finally stopped ranting, hardly hearing what his brother had mumbled. “Excuse me?”

“It is more than that,” Thrawn repeated. He then spoke a phrase spoken only on rare occasions in the Chiss culture and only in the most formal of manners; a phrase that even if the human overheard, it’s implication would most likely escape his understanding. (Even if he did speak near-perfect Cheunh.) In Thrawn’s case, Thrass very much doubted the phrase would ever be uttered. 

The elder brother gave his kin a withering, pitiful look. “You _what?”_

“Don’t look at me like that,” Thrawn protested. “I realize observational skills have never been your forte but surely you’ve deduced that by now.”

“What?” Thrass repeated, looking at him like he’d gone mad. “No I haven’t ‘deduced that by now.’” 

“Well, that’s not my fault,” Thrawn grumbled.

Thrass bowed his head, resting his forehead on his thumb and index finger. “Oh, Thrawn.”

“You act as though I asked for this.”

“It’s been 17 years, Thrawn,” Thrass snapped. “And this is what you summoned me for?”

Thrawn gave his best impression of innocence. “I mean… it’s good to see you? And I’m glad that you and Thalias-”

“Oh, save it. Wait. Wait, wait, wait—” Oddly, Thrass began to chuckle. 

Thrawn waited out the other’s inappropriate response to his admission before speaking. “Honestly, brother…” Thrawn murmured, rolling his eyes. Of course his sibling would find joy at his expense.

The syndic wiped a tear away. “I’m sorry, I just… I can only imagine his face when you told him this after you’ve…” he chuckled some more. “After you’ve been his commanding officer for the greater part of your lives-”

“He doesn’t know, Thrass.”

The elder brother's eyes blew open. “Wh-?!”

Eli returned to place a large casserole dish in the middle of the table and when Thrass opened his mouth, Thrawn kicked him hard under the table.

“What is it?” Eli asked, smiling along.

“Nothing,” Thrawn said quickly, throwing daggers at his sibling. “Right, brother?”

“Seven _Hells,_ Thrawn,” the other groaned, rubbing his shin. “I was going to say the food looks good.”

Eli sat down, grinning at the man across from him. “You can thank Thrawn for that.”

Thrass made no small show of rolling his eyes. He shot Thrawn another pitiful look - his proud, honorable, military-decorated brother… _the chef._ “You _did not_ prepare this.”

“I did,” Thrawn confirmed, handing Thrass the spatula. “What else am I to do all day?”

“Well,” Thrass said, taking the utensil from Thrawn’s grasp with a smirk. “I can’t say it’s the most outrageous thing I’ve heard today.”

Thrass doubled over and grunted again when Thrawn aimed another kick at his aching shin. 

The younger brother grinned innocently at Eli when the human shot him a confused look from across the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, an admission of some kind. (Even if it wasn't to the right person)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I’m trying to get this moving a little faster. Ya know, because I’m impatient. X”D Sooo we’re doing a mini time hop. : )

Ezra sat making no noise, tucked away in one of the smallest rooms high atop one of the citadels spires. It was dark in here, apart from the glow from the questis he held in his palm as he monitored the tiny moving identifiers that represented a dozen or more little girls. His opponents were still five stories down, traversing corridor after corridor in search of him. They’d learned weeks ago not to cheat the system by spreading out across the citadel and using their physical vision to find him. Last time he’d caught them splaying out he simply moved to another room, and then another, making it impossible for them to ever end the bout. This wasn’t a test of vision. It was a test of Sight. 

One individual sat alone in a lower level room, accompanied only by Vanto. It was up to them to track Ezra’s location within the building, directing the others through the labyrinth of the citadel’s hallways to arrive at whatever location he’d decided upon. As long as they followed the rules, he would play no tricks. Admittedly, he’d been a little surprised at their ingenuity every time they found a new way around the assignment’s parameters. He had to give them credit for that resourcefulness. 

Even without cheating the system, they were improving. Vah’nya had even given it a try. She’d blown everyone away, simultaneously directing groups to four separate targets _at one time._ Ezra couldn’t help but be impressed by that.

His mind wandering while he waited, watching the symbols on his screen turn 180 degrees and begin down another corridor. The last four weeks had been exhausting, if he had to be honest. Despite his best efforts, Ezra found himself unsuccessful in training Vah’nya to levitate even the smallest of objects. It was not a fault of Ezra’s inexperienced instruction or Vah’nya’s inability to learn. The abilities of sky-walkers simply did not work like that. They did not manifest through manipulation of physical matter, rather the abstract capabilities of the mind. 

Which was how, after two weeks of trying, they discovered something unexpected, something apparently novel to the Chiss. Ezra could’ve kicked himself for not thinking of it sooner. Multiple sky-walkers were tested before weeding out the ones who could harness it – the ones with Second Sight. Vah’nya, Mi’yaric, and a boy named Lai’en were trained to hear and interpret what Ezra had always known to be force echoes. 

The Chiss dubbed it unofficially as Fourth Sight, or memory sense - handling an object and connecting to its past – who had previously held it, where it had been, what had been done with it. Ezra himself had tried it, but failed where the others had succeeded. 

The human commander allowed the training because it was far less dangerous than employing actual navigators for each other to read and decode. That reduced likelihood of danger was also why they were able to perform _this_ test. Tracking each other through the citadel wasn’t the same as linking to each other’s minds, but it was as close to it as Vanto permitted. Ezra understood his reservations and in no way wished to put the girls in harms way, but he was also young and admittedly reckless and willing to push the envelope out of curiosity - just to see what could happen. He rarely spoke of his more wild ideas, not with Vanto signing off on everything he did. One wrong move and he could lose all the credibility he’d earned over the last standard month. 

Progress was slow going and the truth was real answers may never be revealed, but every little victory gave him hope. 

The green dots inched closer and closer to his location, moving slower now as if stalking their prey. 

“Ah-ha!” one of them exclaimed as the door flung open, light flooding into the dark space. “There you are.” The light switched on. “How long was that?”

Smiling, Ezra pushing himself up off the floor and tucked the device under his arm. “Faster than last time.”

“But how _long?”_ another insisted.

“Yeah, Ezra, how long?” the voice’s owner jumped up and down as they followed him out of the room back down to where Vanto and the sky-walker who’d directed traffic waited. “Did they beat my time from yesterday?”

“C’mon Ezra, tell us!”

It carried on like that for the entire duration of the trek down stairs, ending with one sky-walker attached to his leg and two others swinging from his arms. He hobbled into the room, laughing along with them, eventually hauling the little one attached to his leg up and onto his shoulders. 

He crossed the training room to Vanto, who regarded him and the girl on his shoulders with one raised eyebrow. Vah’nya’s greeting was far warmer as she reached up to help the girl clamber off Ezra’s shoulders. He smiled at her, and she grinned back. 

//

Eli realized within days of working with the young Jedi, that Ezra Bridger’s powers were not the end all be all. They were not the answer to the navigator’s dilemma, as Ar’alani and even he had hoped they’d be, but the young man’s perspective and insight were nevertheless fundamental to Eli’s work. He’d become just as valuable and instrumental to Eli as Eli imagined he’d been to Thrawn, when the two of them had navigated the many seismic chargers that had been launched in their direction over the years. 

Lost in his thoughts as he strode down the corridor, he almost ran headlong into a small figure.

“Shhh,” Un’hee whispered, pushing him back and out of the entrance to the large training room. She pressed a finger to her lips. He scoffed. It wasn’t often that he was shushed by a child. 

Smiling, she pointed.

Eli stepped forward quietly and peered around the corner to the training center. His lead work partner and the eldest navigator were alone. It was after hours, evening meal was just getting underway and the two of them should be heading there soon. But instead they sat side by side on a wooden bench, tucked away where presumably no one would find them. 

Vah’nya was fiddling with a device in her hand, flipping it over and over as she talked. From this distance Eli couldn’t catch what she was saying, but it seemed irrelevant when Ezra took the device from her hand and her mouth instantly stopped moving. 

Confused, Eli glanced down to see Un’hee crouching low and poking her head around the corner below him. She waited expectantly with a slight, knowing smile. 

Eli didn’t understand what it was exactly that she knew, that he didn’t, until the sound of lofty music notes floated to his ears. The young girl beside him practically squealed with giddy delight when Ezra stood and placed the device on the bench beside Vah’nya. He held out his hand. 

An honest grin broke out on Eli’s face and he watched long enough to see Vah’nya smile at the Jedi and place her hand in his. Looking down, Eli’s smile widened when he saw the pure joy on Un’hee’s face. Eli had a sneaking suspicion that she was behind this. 

The young girl was practically bouncing with excitement. “Aren’t they just so, so-”

Eli chuckled softly. “They are.”

Well, so much for getting more work done this evening. Ezra hadn’t complained about the amount of hours they’d been putting in the last couple weeks, but Eli knew the effort was beginning to wear on him. He saw it in the minor frustrations that came out when they ran into another dead end, or in the way his face would fall when one of his tests would fail. The boy deserved a break. 

And Vah’nya. It went without saying that the Chiss woman held a special place in Eli’s heart. She had been the first person to offer friendship when he’d first arrived in the Ascendancy and although he outranked her now, that overarching friendship still remained. 

Un’hee must have sensed his attention shift from the couple dancing to something else entirely because she peered up at him with a curious expression. “Maybe there’s something I can help you with, instead?” She asked in a small voice.

Eli grinned down at her, gently grasping her shoulder and leading her from the doorway so the others could have their privacy without a curious, albeit well-intended, little girl spying on them. He stopped a few doors down the corridor, far enough away that the music had grown faint. “In fact,” he said, kneeling before her. ”I think there is.”

Perking up, Un’hee clasped her hands behind her back and raised her chin proudly like a seasoned vet. “Whatever you need, commander.”

Eli was well aware that Un’hee grew restless when she had nothing to do, and he knew how much being stationed at the citadel after traveling the galaxy with him did not help the situation. And if Un’hee using her free time to play matchmaker told Eli anything, it was that she was bored.

“How would you like to go for a ride?” he asked with a smile.

The young girl’s red eyes grew wide. “To find Thrawn?”

Eli swallowed back the pang of guilt. It never got easier. “No, not going to find him. Just… to get out.”

The girl’s thrill dwindled just a bit, but her eyes still held that same need-for-speed sparkle he’d grown used to. 

“If we’re not going to find Thrawn, you can clean up your mess, right?” she asked, scrunching her nose. “No offense, but I can’t work in those kinds of conditions.”

Eli laughed. “Yes, I’ll put away my data cards and trackers, if you put away your graph sheets.”

“Alright,” she giggled. “Deal!”

He could probably spare the rest of the day, maybe come up with a viable excuse to steal them away for a night or two. It wasn’t much of a vacation for a child, but it would have to do.

//

Eli thought about calling Thrawn’s name when he entered the apartment, but it was late and he decided against it, cringing at the thought of shouting something so cliché as “Honey, I’m home!” 

But then again… he supposed that wouldn’t be so bad. 

Peering around the corner to the living space, and then into the kitchen, Eli searched his apartment for his secret roommate. 

But he wasn’t there. 

Perhaps he was using the only ‘fresher in the apartment, back in the far corner of Eli’s bedroom, and if that was the case Eli should probably permit him some privacy. But the door had been left open a crack and Eli was wary. He had been ever since he and Un’hee had taken off for what he had intended to be a two-day retreat. They’d been called back early because Un’hee was needed for a scouting mission. But up until the trip, Eli hadn’t left Thrawn alone overnight. 

Not that he needed babysitting. 

Eli hesitated, then pushed his bedroom door open the rest of the way to a view that he found pleasantly surprising. 

Thrawn was laid out on Eli’s bed, halfway propped up against the headboard, sleeping soundly. He lay above the covers with his questis balanced on his stomach, its screen facing up toward the ceiling. The backlight had gone out, which meant he’d been laying like this for at least twenty minutes. 

Eli couldn’t fight the goofy grin that crept onto his face at the sight of the peaceful looking Chiss. His wildest and most self-indulgent theories crossed his mind as to why Thrawn would want to hide away in his room while he was gone. Maybe he should feel guilty for Thrawn having to sleep on the couch for so long? It wasn’t like Eli couldn’t afford a second sleep couch. Or maybe Eli would suggest he sleep with him from now on. Would Thrawn even want that? 

Eli reached out and tapped the lamp on his bedside table, dimming its glow to the lowest setting. He couldn’t bring himself to wake Thrawn, so after another moment of staring and smiling at the sleeping man, he decided to let him rest. 

But when he backed out of the room, his foot caught on a leg of the side table. It wobbled, sending a precariously placed glass of water crashing to the floor.

Eli swore under his breath. 

Thrawn’s eyes blinked open. “Eli?”

“Hey,” the human said softly, smiling sheepishly at him. Of course he’d revert to his clumsy, awkward self whenever in Thrawn’s presence. No cool, calm, commander here. “Sorry I woke you.” 

Thrawn’s eyebrows twitched with bewilderment, then he gracefully rose to his feet and smoothed out the wrinkles he’d left behind in the blanket.

“I believe it is you who is owed an apology,” he said, straightening. He eyed him cautiously before saying, “You are home early.”

Eli lifted a shoulder in an indifferent shrug. “Yeah, unfortunately.” He bent to pick the downed glass up off the floor. “I was hoping we’d stay out longer. And uh… you don’t have to apologize.” 

Although, he’d take an explanation if Thrawn was going to offer one. He _was_ curious as to what Thrawn was doing in his room — not that he minded him being there. 

Thrawn spoke quietly. “This is your room.”

Eli just chuckled, noticing how the other kept inching toward the door. “I know, and you can stay in here if you want.” Thrawn opened his mouth, presumably to argue with him. “And none of that ‘infringing upon your space’ shit. I think that ship left the space station a long time ago.”

He tossed his duffel bag onto his bed and began unpacking its contents. 

“It was my best option,” the Chiss replied quietly.

Eli glimpsed his face and gathered immediately that the other man had misunderstood his teasing. So Eli flung a pillow in his direction with a playful grin. The Chiss caught it instinctively against his chest. “Thrawn, I’m kidding.”

Thrawn flashed him a cursory half-smile that didn’t entirely suggest his lack of offense. Eli couldn’t blame him for his hesitation, though, and truthfully he should’ve offered weeks ago. His cowardice had probably prevented him from accepting the decision’s logic. 

Eli threw back the top covers wide enough to welcome the Chiss in beside him. “Get in. If you want,” the human added. “I promise the couch won’t suspect you of infidelity.” 

Thrawn shot him a trenchant glance. “Hardly amusing, Eli,” he said over Eli’s faint chuckling. 

Eli felt the Chiss’ eyes on him, watching him clamber into bed and under the silky sheets. Thrawn hesitated, and then lowered himself down, asking as he did so, “How is Un’hee?” 

Eli swallowed. “She’s uh… she’s good.” He paused briefly. “She really wants to find you.” 

Over the last few weeks Eli had kept Thrawn privy to their findings, either recounting the day's activities every evening or by allowing Thrawn access to his questis so the Chiss could scroll through the data at his leisure, offering advice here and there. In fact, it had been his idea to try simulated challenges not related to flight for the sky-walkers. 

But he had done so with respect to Eli’s standing progress; he knew when not to challenge him, especially regarding anything tied to the navigators. Bridger, on the other hand, was a little more flippant with his respect. He was helpful, yes, but he was also rebellious. At times that worried Eli. 

Sometimes, Eli wished he could have both Thrawn and Bridger in the lab with him. They had similar thought patterns, which surprised Eli to learn at first, but it made sense. The two were forward thinkers, seeing the big picture of how things ought to be. They were — and this was what worried Eli the most — willing to not only challenge authority but also strategically place individuals in positions that produced the best outcomes for their cause. Some called that fearless. Others called it foolish. Results aside, there were some chances Eli was unwilling to take. 

He shifted to face Thrawn, still perched on the edge of the bed. “Well?” 

“Well, what?” 

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’re not under the covers.” Eli shrugged, sitting up to pull his shirt over his head and wiggle out of his lounge bottoms before tossing the clothing into a bin against the wall. “I won’t stop you if you want to leave, but I’m gonna try and get some shut eye.”

He reached up, tapped the metal part of the lamp again, and the light switched off. They were left in total darkness, and Thrawn still hadn’t moved. 

A handful of seconds later, Eli felt the mattress dip a little in Thrawn's direction. 

“And how is Ezra?” The Chiss wondered next. 

Eli snorted. “Young.”

Thrawn’s low chuckle bubbled up in the dark. He was acutely aware of Eli's irritations regarding the subject. “Has he changed your mind about using Second Sight?” 

Eli suppressed his growl. “Good night, Thrawn.”

He rolled over and closed his eyes, his mind reeling until a pleasant grin lingered on his lips. 

Thrawn… in his room… while he was away. 

_Kriffin’ hell._

“Good night, Eli.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, what a week. Anyone else feel like life has repeatedly run them over with a freight train? *sigh* Stay strong, my friends! 
> 
> I wanted to make sure I had a decent line up of chapters before I started posting again so sorry for the delay! Here’s a little sneak peek (subject to change, of course, but hopefully not by much):  
> Things needed to be set in motion with this chapter. It’s a little dense, but it’s important stuff for future chapters. : ) The next chapter is one of my favorites. (Love me some sweet, little Un'hee) Then we have some fluffy stuff for Ezah’nya and maybe a little drama for our guys, with some navigator plot sprinkled throughout. The one after that is a crap ton of exciting political intrigue and the following is the moment we’ve all been waiting for. *screams with delight and runs around room* 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, for kudosing and commenting. You guys are great, really. <3


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is extra long!! It takes place over the course of a single evening and I wanted to post it as one. : )
> 
> Warning: alcohol consumption makes for an emotional human.

Eli’s body went rigid when he unlocked the door to his apartment and saw directly before him a sight that would, under any other circumstance, warm his heart enough to melt the ice caps of Csilla. Now, his heart seized in his chest. Fighting the paralysis that kept him frozen in place, he willed his legs to bring him slowly, cautiously inside. He scanned the room, taking in the scene before him with growing unease. He tried to smile, tried to play it off like it was no big deal, but considering he still harbored a massive secret…

His eyes fell on Thrawn. 

The Chiss sat straight-backed and stoic at the dining room table, his gaze glittering with amusement as a smile pulled at the corner of his lips, no doubt curious as to Eli’s strategy for handling such a scenario. 

They were joined by two extra, unexpected guests this evening.

Vah’nya.

And Un’hee. 

“Eli!” the youngest cried, running toward him and throwing her arms around his waist. “Happy Natal Day, Eli!” She craned her head in order to look up at him with a sly grin. “I’ll let it slide that you lied to me about Thrawn being back, but just this once.”

An awkward, surprised chuckle escaped him before looking up at the others.

“I have a key, remember?” Vah’nya asked him flatly. “I thought it would be… fun... to sneak in and surprise you.” She gestured lazily to the streamers and balloons scattered throughout the apartment. “Little did I know your gift arrived early.”

Eli shot her a sharp, brittle look, doing his best to ignore Thrawn’s curious expression at that comment. Un’hee took his hand and led him to the table where they had all convened around a game board, probably to keep the girl preoccupied from bombarding the others with questions until Eli arrived. The human quickly decided they’d have to play this off as if nothing was wrong, out of place, or suspicious. 

This was fine.

“We’re in the middle of a game,” Un’hee explained as Eli took his seat gingerly next to Thrawn. She leaned across the table, splaying her arms out wide and wiping the game board clean of the credits and miniature wampa, starship, and helmet that served as their game pieces. “But we can start again so you can play.”

“Before we do that….” Vah’nya met his gaze. “May I speak with you?” 

Eli fought the urge to look to Thrawn, refusing to appear guilty with a nervous glance over. He stood, following Vah’nya out of the dining room and into the kitchen.

The space was not an entirely separate room, meaning they had to keep their voices low so that the young girl, especially, wouldn’t overhear. Eli quickly discovered that Vah’nya’s hushed tone was uncannily similar to the tone the Admiral used when she was displeased. She rounded on him, exhibiting an impeccable impersonation of Ar’alani any time one of her officers stepped even a pinky toe out of line.

“When were you going to tell me you’re harboring a fugitive?”

Eli snorted, giving her a look of pure exasperation. He couldn’t find it in himself to be angry at her accusation, it was so far fetched.

“Vah’nya, it’s not quite like that…”

“Someone who wishes to evade the government and go into hiding — yes, Eli, that is a fugitive.”

“You make him sound like a criminal,” Eli retorted, frowning now.

“Listen, Eli,” she said, slowing her roll. “I like Thrawn. I always have.” She trailed off, reminiscing. Eli recalled what she had told him Thrawn had allowed to happen on the bridge of his former flagship. “I know he’s not a criminal. But this still looks…”

Eli crossed his arms over his chest and fixed Vah’nya with a hard stare. “When have I ever cared about how something _looks,_ Vah’nya?”

“Well,” the Chiss woman said with an air of someone who knew how to play the cards she’d been dealt. “Now Un’hee knows. So…“

Eli uncrossed his arms and raised them in the air as a sign of resignation. “It’s not like I can have her _unsee_ him —”

_“Exactly.”_

“Can we please not argue?” Eli asked before she could continue. “It’s been Thrawn and I here for… weeks. He’s barely seen anyone besides me.”

Belatedly, he realized that had been the incorrect thing to say as her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What does that mean? ‘Barely seen anyone.’ How do you _barely_ see someone?”

“Can we just… enjoy this time?”

She stepped swiftly in front of him before he had a chance to exit the space. “Who else knows he’s here, Eli?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he protested, taking another step to the side, only to find that move countered as well. “Please, Vah’nya.”

After a moment she conceded. “Fine.”

Thrawn entered, taking in the confrontation with a quick sweep of his glowing eyes. It was obvious he wished not to interrupt, but after a moment of silence and expectant stares, he seemed to realize that they had finished arguing, and were waiting for him to speak. “Un’hee is hungry.”

Eli’s face fell. He didn’t have much in the way of snacks for a child. Suddenly, Vah’nya moved behind him and hastily flipped a few switches on the cooking unit before yanking the fridge door open. It hadn’t occurred to Eli that perhaps Thrawn had been speaking to her. She pulled out a large glass dish, covered in a clear wrapping, and placed it on the counter. 

“Forty-five minutes,” she said as she turned back to the dining room. “And not a minute more or they’ll be dry.”

Once she was gone, Eli turned to Thrawn.

“You could have warned me,” he hissed.

“I asked when you would be home.”

Eli made a face as he rummaged through his cupboards, gathering what suitable snacks he could while they waited for the cooking unit to warm. 

“And I’m supposed to read between the lines and know what that means? You could’ve specified that you wanted to know when I’d be home _because we had company.”_

Thrawn’s eyebrows lowered in contemplation as he opened a cupboard door, bringing down a stack of dinner plates from the cabinet. “I assumed informing you while on duty would incite unnecessary anxiety.” 

Eli clenched his teeth together. Thrawn was right, of course. He would’ve been an absolute mess had he been told this while still in his meeting with Ar’alani. He pulled at his collar absentmindedly, staring at the increasing degrees on the cooking unit, feeling as though his own internal temperature was reaching 312 degrees. He was still trying to come up with a viable plan to ensure that Un’hee didn’t tell anyone. Finding Thrawn was an aspiration she and Eli both shared and expecting her to tell no one really was unfair. He’d have to think of something. 

“Eli,” Thrawn spoke softly beside him. “Are you alright? Your cheeks are flushed.”

A knock at the door made him nearly jump clean out of his skin, horror etched on every feature of his face. He swore under his breath.

Vah’nya appeared once more, popping her head around the partition. “Eli —”

“I know, I know,” he said, feeling as though the walls to his apartment were caving in. “Thrawn —”

But the Chiss had already taken several swift strides in the direction of Eli’s room where he could hide for the time being. Eli’s mind quickly flashed back to the last time this had happened. Then, it had been Thrass who had unexpectedly visited Eli’s apartment one morning. If it _was_ Thrass now, it wouldn’t be a problem seeing as Thrawn’s brother already knew of his whereabouts. But it could just as easily be Ar’alani or Thalias – assuming Thrass hadn’t already told her about Thrawn. Was there something he hadn’t done before he left Ar’alani office? _Kriff._

Or it could be Thurfian. Eli swallowed hard at that thought and purposefully pushed it down, ignoring the possibility as he strode with false confidence to the door. _That_ would be a downright, unholy nightmare, one that he was unwilling to fathom into existence. 

He waited until he heard the click of his bedroom door before unlocking the front one.

“Happy Birthday!” 

Eli jumped back in surprise as a thousand tiny flecks of confetti rained down around him, landing on top of his head and shoulders. The sound of the party popper drew Un’hee’s interest and she came running down the entrance hall, her smile broad and radiating joy like a solar flare embodied.

“Ezra!”

The human laughed and caught her just in time to stop her from barreling out into the hallway as her small feet slid across the hardwoods. 

“Don’t look so mortified, Eli,” Hammerly told him as she stepped inside. “You and I were on the same ship for over a decade, remember? Surely you didn’t think I’d forgotten your birthday?”

“And I’m just here to make sure all those grey hairs you say I’m giving you, really do come in,” Bridger teased, squinting just a little as if to spot the silver strands before Un’hee captured his attention again, tugging on his arm. Eli heard her mention something about games as they all strode inside. 

“Don’t listen to him, Eli,” Hammerly soothed kindly. “Zero grey hairs.”

“Mhmm,” came his unenthusiastic response as he followed Hammerly to where Vah’nya and Ezra greeted each other with an embrace that lasted only a second short of unsuspecting.

“Is there anyone _else...”_ Eli said over the other’s chatting, speaking loudly as if trying to corral a room full of noisy children. “Arriving at my apartment this evening?”

Bridger looked around at the others, seemingly ignorant of the commander’s frustration. “Not that we know of. I’m assuming the roommate is already present?”

Un’hee giggled.

Eli grumbled the whole way to his room, the others voices growing loud and lighthearted once again. He stepped inside his room, closing the door behind him and leaning against it. Thrawn appeared from inside the ‘fresher’s open door, with a look of mild puzzlement. He straightened when he saw Eli’s expression.

The human took a deep breath. “If you’d like to see your former commander…” Thrawn quirked his head to the side. “And the infuriating young man you sent—”

“Ezra is here?”

Eli frowned. He opened his mouth to question why Thrawn looked positively elated at that news.

“Excellent,” the Chiss said, walking purposefully toward him and the exit. He opened the door, paused, and turned back around to face Eli. “Are you aware that you have glitter in your hair?”

Thrawn reached out and brushed the remaining confetti out of his hair with a few swipes of his wrist before departing, leaving Eli staring dumbfounded after him.

//

When Hammerly had appeared at Ezra’s door suggesting that they sneak out to wish Vanto a happy birthday, he had first been surprised that he hadn’t known it was today — clearly the human hadn’t wanted anyone to know. Perhaps none of the Chiss did; maybe they didn’t celebrate birthdays. Then he thought of Vah’nya, but he couldn’t invite her as she was unaware of Thrawn’s return. His next thought was ‘hells yes, get me out of this kriffing compound.’ And then, en route to Vanto’s apartment, he realized he was looking forward to seeing Thrawn again. He wanted to speak with him. Mostly, to ensure that he knew what he and Vanto were up to. As the Chiss had been the first one to question whether or not Ezra’s skills could benefit the sky-walkers, he felt he owed it to Thrawn to keep him informed.

So after everyone had settled with their drinks and snacks while dinner was baking, Ezra waited patiently for Hammerly’s discussion with Thrawn to be finished. Currently, she was spouting off design details in rapid-fire Basic and sketching quick blueprints of the newly minted Nightdragon prototypes on a napkin, telling Thrawn all about the improvements in the electrostatic barriers and the new plasma sphere configurations. They even discussed the TIE Defenders, which Ezra couldn’t help smiling about. He was sure it had been a lifetime ago when he and Sabine had commandeered one of the fighters. Thrawn had actually _been there_ for that, too. He shook his head, concealing his impish smirk behind his knuckles. 

He caught Thrawn’s eye at the same time the Chiss caught his and with a brief nod, they made their way to the couch in the main room. 

“How are you, Ezra?” Thrawn asked, seating himself comfortably on the plush furniture. Ezra was surprised to hear the sincerity in his voice. He grinned at the Chiss’ demeanor, lounging with a drink in his hand, an ankle propped casually up on his opposite knee. The relaxed posture was far different than how he’d presented himself as an Imperial, nevermind the sheer lack of defense he was projecting. Thrawn was content, maybe even at peace here. 

“Well, thanks,” Ezra said in honest truth, finding it strange that he’d missed the man, someone he’d once loathed enough to end his life and now —

He opened his mouth to try and express these new revelations, but Thrawn spoke first, quiet and low so no one else would hear.

“Ezra, I… I want to thank you,” Thrawn said, to Ezra’s complete astonishment. “Eli says you’ve been instrumental in his discoveries and I… well, you cannot begin to know what a profound shift that may mean for my people.” 

Ezra blinked, thrown off kilter by the Chiss’s gratitude. 

“How do you feel it’s going?” Thrawn asked.

Ezra’s gaze flashed to Vanto, who could be seen through the open doorway into the kitchen. Un’hee was with him, sitting on the island counter and dangling her legs off the side, happily munching on a try-bite of their now cooling meal. 

“It’s going alright,” Ezra answered with a shrug. Thrawn must have known otherwise, judging by his knowing half-smile. If Ezra had to be honest, there were still things he wanted to try, road-blocked by Vanto at every turn. 

He paused for a moment, waiting for the Chiss to continue because the man looked… unsatisfied.

“I’m assuming there is something you’d like to suggest I do?” Ezra asked curiously, schooling the impatience out of his voice. 

“Are you asking my opinion?”

Oh, what the hell. “Yeah, sure.” 

Thrawn hesitated a moment as if balancing the scales in that brilliant mind of his, then he leaned forward, casually resting his elbows atop his knees and wrapping his fingers around his glass with both hands. Ezra did not know Thrawn exceptionally well, but he’d never known him to hesitate, which made him even more apprehensive of what the Chiss was about to say.

“With regards to your… experiments,” Thrawn said softly. “If there is a direction you deem advantageous, something you have the ability to achieve: I encourage you to reject the conventional.”

Ezra blinked. So Vanto _had_ been keeping him in the loop. What exactly that encompassed and in what light he himself had been painted, he wasn’t sure. What Ezra found odd, however, was Thrawn’s seemingly unconditional support of _him._

“I encourage you to challenge your results,” Thrawn continued, red eyes flaring with an intensity Ezra hadn’t expected. “To push the boundaries of what is known and commonly accepted. If there is something you believe will work, _believe in it.”_

Ezra huffed out a derisive laugh when his mind finally caught up and registered what Thrawn had said. “Even if it clashes with _his_ ideals?” Ezra asked with a jerk of his head toward the kitchen.

Thrawn looked over, his distant gaze lingering on Vanto. His gaze... _softened._ In his eyes Ezra saw the admiration and affection designed specifically for the human Commander. Ezra had teased Vanto about it, but never openly asked. In Thrawn’s eyes Ezra found the truth. He couldn’t be bothered by it, though. Who someone loved had never mattered to him. He’d lost too much in his life to be bothered by something so insignificant. 

Except it wasn’t insignificant if he thought about it. In the span of one’s life between birth and death, who they loved could have profound effects, could change the course of history; realign the future of an entire galaxy. Back in the Empire, Ezra had witnessed the coming together of two men he regarded as Uncle’s, seen what they’d overcome; an army of adversity to be together. 

That lingering gaze of Thrawn’s lasted only a few seconds before he refocused his attention back to Ezra. “Eli is under strict orders from the Admiral to cause no harm. That includes the young navigators’, Vah’nya, and yourself. There is only so much he has the power to do. You, on the other hand…”

Ezra swallowed, and nodded. “Alright,” he replied. “I’ll keep trying.”

Catching Vah’nya’s eye from across the room, she flashed him that warm smile, the one that made his stomach flip and his heart flutter in his chest. Distracted, he barely had time to return the gesture with a brief grin of his own before she looked away. 

He turned back to Thrawn, to catch the faint — almost imperceivable — curve of his lips that displayed his mild amusement. No doubt Vanto had told Thrawn everything regarding him and the Chiss navigator. But, like Ezra, Thrawn found that the realization did not require commentary. He stood and gripped Ezra’s shoulder momentarily, before joining Vanto in the kitchen. 

//

After dinner, during an animated round of their fifth game of Goddess’ Gamble at Un’hee’s request, Eli glanced around the table at those present, at everyone he’d formed some sort of bond with over the years, even a Jedi to which he’d built an unlikely — dare he say it — friendship. He looked at Un’hee, who was partnered with Thrawn for the time being because her smaller hands kept dropping her cards. She was laughing like a child should, high-pitched giggles and small features crinkled with mirth. He watched as Thrawn bent his head to whisper in her ear, to which Bridger muttered something about her being the smartest one here as she’d chosen a tactical genius to partner with. The adults agreed with chorused laughter while Un’hee just smiled innocently at him. 

Eli wished he could have this moment forever, freeze it in time so he could return to its peace and warmth whenever he wanted. It had been such a long time since he’d felt as though he didn’t have to hide, since he’d been able to simply exist among those he cared for. 

“You ok there, Vanto?” Bridger asked, eyeing him strangely.

Eli didn’t even attempt to hide his pleasant smile. “Yeah.”

He caught Thrawn’s eye, gleaming in rare spontaneity, and grinned. 

“Psst, that one,” Un’hee stole Thrawn’s attention with a nudge of her arm.

He pointed to the stack on the far right. “This one?”

She nodded enthusiastically, leaning in close to see the card after he’d slotted it in with the others in his hand. He shot her a wink when she smiled up at him and she tried winking back, but ended up just closing both eyes. Eli wondered off-handedly if it was her Sight that gifted her those little insights, or simply good fortune.

On their next turn, Thrawn collaborated with Un’hee, checking that all their cards were in the correct order before laying down his hand. The others at the table groaned and threw their cards down in defeat as Un’hee leaned back in her chair with her knees pulled up, smiling so wide that the light from above glinted off the point of her sharper canines. Eli could tell she was trying to be humble, but Un’hee loved to win. 

“Ok, that’s it,” Hammerly joked. “You guys can’t be partnered together next round.”

Eli couldn’t blame the others for their frustrations, however good-natured they may be. Thrawn and Un’hee had won the last five rounds. The girl’s little giggle turned into a yawn and her eyes began to droop as fatigue set in. Instead of starting up another round, Eli asked to hear more about the others’ ship-wrecked time on the island, something he knew Un’hee took little interest in. 

Three minutes into the conversation she began to slump wearily against the man sitting beside her, her small shoulders sagging as she relaxed even further. The Chiss didn’t seem to mind, remaining still as a statue so that she had an arm to prop her head against when she finally succumbed to exhaustion.

Eli couldn’t help but smile at them. Thrawn hadn’t ever seemed the paternal type to Eli, but he exuded an undeniable level of stability and comfort to which Eli imagined a child would be innately drawn.

“Oh, Thrawn…” Vah’nya apologized. She’d been sitting on the other side of him and hadn’t noticed that the girl had fallen asleep on the man. 

He held up a steady hand, bowing his head in order to glimpse Un’hee’s expression, making sure her quiet slumber remained uninterrupted. “It’s alright.”

Eli made a face full of gentle exasperation. Thrawn caught the unspoken rebuke and muttered, “Although, perhaps she should be moved.”

Eli, Vah’nya, and Ezra all rose at the same time but Thrawn had already draped an arm around her, gracefully scooting her chair away from the table. He lifted her into his arms and after a wordless confirmation from Eli, carried her into his room.

The human’s eyes followed the two of them through the doorway. Once they’d disappeared, he turned back to find Vah’nya eyeing him with a pensive look. 

“What?”

She smirked and looked away. “Nothing.” 

//

“Did you have a good time tonight?” Thrawn murmured into the darkness. He was lying behind Eli lengthwise on the couch in what could be a potentially precarious position, but Eli was past caring. He’d had a few drinks and sleep was calling his name. 

The human nodded and hummed into the silence. Hammerly and Ezra had gone home, leaving Vah’nya and Un’hee asleep in his room. He felt the quiet press in on the two of them, buzzing in his ears. Five minutes prior, Thrawn had insisted that he would sleep on the floor, and that Eli should take the couch. Eli had argued, claiming they’d both fit if they removed the cushions and in the end, they’d managed to arrange themselves comfortably on the furniture. 

Eli sank deeper under the blanket they shared, a lopsided grin on his face. “I couldn’t have asked for a better surprise.”

He wasn’t entirely sure how to express his gratitude to his friends for surprising him. It had been one of the best birthdays he could remember. 

“You deserve it,” Thrawn said into his thoughts. “I am pleased everyone was able to celebrate. Although…”

Eli twisted his head a little. “What?”

The man’s chest rose and fell against Eli’s back as he sighed. “It is time for the Imperials to leave,” Thrawn explained. “They have been here too long, longer than I had anticipated.”

Eli had recently come to the same conclusion, except for one small hiccup. He nodded. “I’ll mention it to Ar’alani. But,” Eli thought of his Jedi cohort. “I don’t know how Bridger will feel about leaving.”

Thrawn chuckled, and Eli pictured his knowing smile. “Perhaps he will wish to stay a little while longer.”

Eli hoped he would, but he would understand if the boy wished to return to his family. Not everyone was willing to drop their entire lives to aid an alien civilization, and nor should they be expected to.

“Eli,” Thrawn murmured and Eli, with his eyes closed and already drifting off, jumped a little. “I want to apologize... for not presenting you with a gift—”

“What?” Eli exclaimed, suddenly awake. He turned his head to catch the red glow in his periphery. 

“Humans exchange gifts on Natal Days—”

“Yeah, I know, but...” Eli chuckled to himself. “Listen, I know it sounds cheesy but… what Vah’nya said earlier this evening. She was right. You being here is one of the best gifts I could’ve received. I don’t need anything else.”

Eli’s own admission caught him off guard, startling him with an overwhelming wave of emotion. He felt the muscles of his throat constrict and his eyes burn and he realized that he’d meant those words – cheesy or not – with far more sincerity than he’d thought he would. Thrawn had been the one constant in his life. Every birthday had been spent with the Chiss in some capacity, save for the two when they hadn’t been in contact. One of which Eli had spent wondering if he’d ever see him again. Eli grinned sheepishly, with his back toward Thrawn, and was grateful that the Chiss couldn’t see the moisture pooling in the corner of his eyes.

“That is kind of you to say,” Thrawn muttered behind him. “And in turn, if my presence awards your life even half the fortune that yours has mine… I hope you find it’s all been worth it, Eli.”

Eli smiled and clenched his eyes, causing a single tear to fall. He almost laughed. _Of course_ a compliment from Thrawn would sound something like that, but nevertheless, it was one of the kindest things he’d ever said. The rare doubt, however, that Eli thought he’d caught in the Chiss’ tone threw him for a loop. 

_Worth it?_

Eli had been debating whether or not to use this evening as an excuse for an intimate disclosure. But truthfully, he found it distasteful. Such a cheap admission would be doing his feelings a disservice. They spanned the course of a decade and did not deserve to be masked by a drunken confession when they required intricate care and tact. 

He cleared his throat, attempting to disguise the emotion in his voice. “So far, I’d say it has been. Good night, Thrawn.”

He felt the Chiss shift behind him. “Good night, Eli. Happy birthday.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3
> 
> I feel the need to mention here that the term “Natal Day” was taken straight from cathouse_mary’s fics. If you have not read their works, I highly recommend them. Any and all of them. ;)


	16. Chapter 16

“And you’re sure we can’t just try it?”

“No, Bridger.”

“What if it was Vah’nya and someone younger – someone’s who’s Second Sight hasn’t—”

“What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand?” Vanto cut him off. “The Defense Fleet is not willing—”

“What if we are?” The question came quietly from Vah’nya, seated behind the two men standing on opposite sides of the desk. It might as well have been opposite sides of the universe. 

Ever since Vanto’s birthday party where Thrawn had openly shown his support for Ezra’s more brash ideas, the young Jedi had taken to heeding the Chiss’ advice -- much to the human commander’s annoyance. This was as close to an argument as they’d ever been. Ezra’s proposition, or query rather, suggested they try bridging two navigators’ minds, an act that was still forbidden by the CDF. He knew it could be done, even if it was risky. Vah’nya had accidentally tapped into his mind weeks ago, and they’d survived. 

Ezra glimpsed Vanto’s icy stare and felt a chill wash over him, cold as Csilla under nightfall. It felt similar to every time he’d touched the Dark Side, when it crept up his spine and made his blood run cold — ominous, seductive, beckoning him to come closer. He shivered. That had been so long ago; _this_ was another life. 

“You?” Vanto asked Vah’nya, folding his arms over his chest. Ezra could’ve sworn the temperature in the room plummeted several degrees more simply from that look. “You’re willing to risk injuring one of your sisters?”

“You don’t know that—”

“Or injury to yourself?” Vanto continued. “I know you don’t like being reminded—”

“I’m aware,” the woman said through gritted teeth. “But why? And for what?”

Vanto opened his mouth but she cut him off again. Ezra wasn’t foolish enough to interject so he focused on the holoprojected charting system stretching across the room’s far wall behind Vanto. As he skimmed the list of identification numbers, he ticked through the individuals associated with each one to distract himself. Their names were kept coded and confidential to protect their identities, to keep them safe from any ill-willed threat if The List ever fell into the wrong hands. He ran through them multiple times; anything to keep from being called back into the argument. 

“And am I to do the same things over and over?” Vah’nya asked, standing now as if it would force Vanto to hear her more clearly. “Am I to cower in fear of what _might_ happen when on the other side could be our answer? Am I to act as you do?” 

Ezra watched with bated breath as the Commander’s dark eyes scoured the room dangerously, gleaming like hot embers to land directly on him. He knew what the man was thinking. Ezra had worn off on her. He was the threat Vanto had been wary of from the beginning. 

Ezra felt his shoulders sag with the disheartening realization that Vanto was displeased with him. He had only wanted to help, to lend his knowledge to their cause. He hadn’t wanted this. 

“Commander—”

“Enough.” 

Vanto did not yell; he did not need to. Vah’nya gave it a shot, speaking his name and taking a hesitant step forward.

“This conversation is over,” Vanto said. “You’re both dismissed.”

With a tentative glance in each other’s direction, the two turned away.

“Vah’nya.” 

Ezra’s footsteps halted beside hers, but he did not turn around. Vanto and Vah’nya had known each other far longer than he had been in their lives. They shared jokes he did not understand, had lived through battles he knew nothing about, maintained a friendship rooted in respect and shared passion for the Chiss sky-walkers. Anything that was said between the two would be forgiven. 

Nevertheless, he could provide Vah’nya with extrinsic support. (Not that she ever needed his help) They were friends -- possibly nothing more -- but Ezra was a loyal and fierce friend. He would extend the best aspects of himself to her. Even if they were nothing more. 

Out of his periphery he saw her chin lift, her posture stiffen. 

Vanto spoke. “You are aware of the Admiral’s regulations…”

Military doctrine was finite. Vanto had his orders. Ezra understood this because Thrawn had explained it to him, but he nevertheless felt that whatever orders the Admiral had given the human hindered their research. Ezra couldn’t help it, him and ‘orders’ had never quite seen eye-to-eye.

“I am,” Vah’nya replied before Vanto had finished his sentence. “Apologies, Commander.”

Vanto must have nodded because she excused herself without a word and Ezra followed. 

//

“Vanto did not seem happy with us.”

Ezra had followed Vah’nya into the lounge of her quarters, a room brimming with life and personality, an expression of the individual who lived here. The younger girls resided in rooms with shared quarters, Vah’nya had been given her own. This was only the third time Ezra had been in here, but the rooms’ welcoming nature seemed to ease some of his built-up tension. Or perhaps it was just her.

“He’s just worried,” Vah’nya countered without meeting his eye as she lowered herself into a chair at the round bistro table pressed into the corner. It served as a workstation in some cases, and a dining area in others. Currently it was a place to rest her head. “That’s all,” she muttered against the crook of her elbow.

“He thinks I’m a bad influence,” Ezra stated with dull finality, running a hand along the frame of a flimsy-printed photo. He recognized a few familiar faces. 

“He does,” she agreed with a lazy shrug, her honesty earning a sharp look of indignation from him. “But people thought that about Thrawn, at first...” she trailed off as if afraid they might be overheard. Thrawn was still supposed to be missing after all. 

Ezra snorted. “Last I checked the sentiment remained unchanged.”

Vah’nya just grinned, and raised her head to glance fleetingly at the chrono on the wall. Midday meal was close to its conclusion, meaning she would be needed soon. Without giving it a second thought, Ezra laid a hand gently on her shoulder, preventing her from rising from her seat. 

“I’ll go.” 

Her gaze turned pleasantly curious with an arched eyebrow and he shrugged. 

“Alright,” she said, with a hint of speculation in her voice.

He exited the room, knowing full well what he was getting himself into. He was also aware of the look she had given him, and how it had been nothing short of a challenge. 

Recess had not been a designated hour until Ezra had arrived and increased the girls’ training regimen. Vah’nya had explained to him that aboard a Chiss warship multiple sky-walkers were assigned to ensure the girls’ had long enough rest periods between shifts. Of course, how many navigators were assigned to a ship depended on many things: how far the ship was traveling, how dangerous to traverse the course was, and what exactly the ships objectives were; reconnaissance, anticipated battle, foodstuff transportation, etc. Here, at the citadel, rest periods had to be scheduled to prevent any overload spells.

Ezra crept silently around the doorframe, spying the group of young girls whispering hurriedly to each other in the center of the darkened room. The older navigators were also encouraged to take this time to rest, but Ezra had yet to find a thirteen-year-old willing to give up their free hour for ‘nap time.’ 

Inside the room, four or five girls were clearly vetoing the break as well. Perhaps they were playing a game or exchanging bits of gossip about whatever ten-year-olds found whisper-worthy. Whatever it was, they were likely distracting the others who had lined themselves against the walls, either sitting or laying down, and trying obviously to distinguish themselves from the rule-breakers. 

“Gotcha,” he teased as he entered the dimly lit room, making them all jump and scatter, soft gasps and quiet giggles following them back to their mats. Ezra couldn’t blame them, when he had been their age, he would’ve been the ringleader. Weaving between the groups of girls, he made it to the center of the room and rotated on the spot, hands on his hips. “I thought Vah’nya told you-”

“I’m not tired.”

“You still need to rest your mind.”

“I’m hungry.”

Ezra rolled his eyes, smiling. “You just ate.”

“It’s cold in here.”

“It’s cold everywhere,” he muttered.

A bored sounding voice came from the door behind him. “You could try that thing again.” Ezra turned to see Mi’yaric reclining carelessly against the frame of the door. “It’s one of the only things that works.”

Ezra grinned at the older sky-walker, knowing all too well that she’d already tried to calm them down. He opened his mouth to thank her for her efforts, until the other’s broke out in a chorus of agreement and he realized just what she’d started. He shot her a vexed look that was countered with a sly smirk. 

“Sit down, please,” he spoke to one of the girls who had jumped to her feet. Chiss did not express displeasure in the same way humans did, but he knew what that sound meant.

“Uh-uh,” he said with raised eyebrows. “Do not _hiss_ at me.” She scrunched up her nose but did as asked. 

“Now that you’re here,” Mi’yaric appeared at his side. “Can I go?”

Ezra let out a sigh. He supposed that would be fine. After all, he hadn’t exactly expected her to sit through recess. 

“No, you cannot,” came a firm voice from the entry.

Vah’nya strode confidently to the center of the room to stand beside Ezra.

“You can stay and help watch over your sisters,” she told Mi’yaric.

“Fine,” the girl huffed out, unimpressed. “But I’m not _napping.”_ She plopped herself on the floor next to Un’hee.

Vah’nya faced Ezra, her eyes dancing with playful amusement. “Trouble?”

“What, you don’t trust me?”

“I did not say that.”

One of the girls stood up again. “Ezra, do the thing!”

“Yeah, do the thing, Ezra!”

The Jedi flashed them a look, eyes wide, silently communicating his wish for them to keep _that_ just between _them._

He cleared his throat, hyper aware of the now curious woman watching him at his side. “I don’t think today-”

“Pleeeease.”

“Yes, Ezra,” Vah’nya urged softly, grinning. _“Do the thing.”_

Well, that was just unfair. 

He swallowed and after a moment of debate, released a resigned sigh. Feeling as though he’d been coerced, taken advantage of by pushy children and a pretty girl, he conceded, to animated cheering from the younger ones.

“Shh,” Ezra advised the group, chuckling under his breath as he strode to the storage hutch. “You’re supposed to be resting, remember?”

They fell silent, snuggling in closer to each other or deeper into their thermal blankets. Ezra felt the buzz of anticipation from a dozen eager younglings ripple through the Force. He’d only done this twice before, and never in front of Vah’nya. The last time he’d almost broken something. He prayed that wouldn’t be the case this time.

Fetching three etched glass spheres from the cabinet, he positioned them safely in his arms and made his way back to the center of the room, carefully toeing between the girls now sitting or laying silently on the floor. 

Before he began, he asked the room. “Quiet time, yes?”

A chorus of giddy acknowledgments answered him. He glanced in Vah’nya’s direction. She had seated herself on the other side of Un’hee. Un’hee herself had her knees pulled up with her arms wrapped tightly around them, waiting patiently like the others. 

Ezra closed his eyes, took a breath to calm his mind, and sank into an ocean of lucidity and balance. There was tension here — in all the young, restless minds — and along with it came the contrary underlying desire to be at peace. He’d been that way when he was young, too — curious and energetic, all the while grasping for something stable, somewhere he could feel safe. He had found that among his familial crew, within the tranquil webbing of the Force, and now with Vah’nya. If he could do anything to help calm the young sky-walkers’ minds it was to share with them something enchanting. 

Finding the golden sliver of light that shone like sunbeams from above, Ezra lifted the glass spheres high into the air with the help of the Force, imagining their etched-in patterns catching the light and projecting a beautiful design across the walls, ceiling, and floor. Biting his lip in concentration, he willed the orbs to revolve slowly on an axis, the brilliant reflection of light bouncing off every object or young face as they rotated in place. 

Knowing he may be pushing his luck — and skill — he took one step out from beneath the orbs. A glance up told him that they hadn’t budged. He allowed himself a moment of satisfaction.

He hadn’t noticed the silence that had fallen over the room until he gazed around him at all the peaceful little faces, some sleeping or simply resting, but all of the calm. 

Rustling to his left drew his attention and he glimpsed Vah’nya disentangling herself from the limbs of Un’hee and even Mi’yaric, who was — to Ezra’s smug amusement — indeed asleep. 

The Chiss woman strode to meet him in the center of the room. “Do you trust yourself?” she asked lightly.

He snorted and with an uncertain glance at the hovering objects he answered. “Not really.”

She smiled kindly before beckoning him from the middle of the room, indicating that whether or not he trusted himself, _she_ trusted him.

“Thank you for this,” she commented with a nod behind them. “They don’t often get to see light shows.” 

Ezra shrugged. “It was nothin’.” 

“Do you know what these are?” she asked when they reached the cabinet, pulling from it another glass sphere, this one painted with a foreign script.

Ezra shrugged. He’d assumed they were training tools, or ancient navigator artifacts? Maybe one of them even painted or carved the designs herself?

Vah’nya answered for him. “They are Thrawn’s.”

“Thrawn’s?” Ezra asked, appalled.

With one hand she tossed it into the air and caught it again. “Essentially. It’s a long story but a ship of his was… repossessed. These,” she held up the orb. “Were found on it, along with a multitude of various art pieces from cultures across the Chaos. Some are here, but most ended up in a museum somewhere.” 

Ezra hummed, frowning. 

“It’s interesting that you would be drawn to them,” Vah’nya said with a teasing smile.

“You’re telling me,” Ezra retorted, rolling his eyes. “Honestly though, I hadn’t meant to go snooping about. I saw these and… they reminded me of a friend back home — the way this one is painted,” he said, pointing. 

The magnitude of fresh pain at the memory of Sabine surprised him and he fell silent, looking across the room and around it’s outer edges at the young, sleeping Chiss. He missed her, and the others, but he could rationalize being gone by the resolve that he had to be here for a reason. He would leave after his work here was done, but not before. Still, his mind wandered, wondering where Sabine was now and if she ever wondered where he’d jumped to. 

Vah’nya chuckled beside him, the soft sound drawing his attention, and she placed the sphere gingerly back where it belonged. Perhaps he’d missed something she said? Or perhaps she took joy in his accidental linking to Thrawn. Whatever it was, his eyes fell on her smile, and when she straightened to face him, he didn’t look away.

He swallowed, thinking. If the spheres were technically part of Thrawn’s art collection, he should probably lower them down, out of smashing range. “Do you think we should-”

“Yes,” she answered softly.

Ezra finally looked away. “I mean, just in case. Shattering things of his wouldn’t do me any favors. I’ve already pissed him off enough for one lifetime…” he trailed off, catching the look on her face, her head tilted to the side, her eyes narrowed in curiosity.

And then it dawned on him.

“Wait,” he whispered, blue eyes flicking to where her tongue slipped out to wet her lips. “What did you think I meant?”

She grinned at him, her eyes like kindled flames in the dark, before reaching out to take his hand in hers, folding her fingers around his longer ones and stepping so close to him that when he breathed in he nearly lost himself in her scent, in its sweet and compelling comfort that had grown so familiar. And there was something else, something that his senses seemed to register every time they were locked in simulated combat or after a heated discussion.

He’d heard that some species emitted adrenaline pheromones. Were Chiss one of them? Whatever it was, he was instinctively drawn to it. 

The elder navigator’s eyes left his to travel over the others scattered around the room. She returned his sweet smile before saying softly, “I can’t make objects float like you can.” 

He smiled sadly, vying for something consoling to say.

“And I can’t read people’s minds.”

He lifted a shoulder, looking away. He wasn’t so good at that, either.

“But I can read you.”

His eyes flicked to hers and he swallowed back the nerves, his heart striking up the same rapid pace it did during battle. Could he focus the Force long enough to slow it down, to stop the blood pounding in his ears? Speaking of the Force — he took a moment to mentally secure the glass spheres. 

“You’ve been waiting for an opportune moment,” she whispered. 

She wasn’t wrong. When they danced the other day he’d thought about it, and although it had just been the two of them then, it hadn’t felt like the right time. He studied her expression now, trying to gauge if she meant what he thought she did. Because if she didn’t, well, he knew he wasn’t strong enough to withstand the Admiral’s wrath. 

The last time this had happened, the last time he’d tried kissing someone… let’s just say he’d never been friend-zoned so quickly in his life. He shook his head, reminiscing on that embarrassing moment.

“Was I wrong?” the woman before him asked. 

He jumped. “Wha—no. No, you aren't wrong. I just—”

He met her gaze, to find her smiling when he had nothing else to add. 

“It’s alright,” she told him kindly. “You don’t have to explain.”

She began to withdraw, her grasp loosening in his. If she was right and this really was his chance… his fingers tightened around hers, hoping he’d read her correctly. If he hadn’t, he might be walking away with more than a bruised _ego._

He brought her hand to his lips, pressing a faint kiss to the back of it. He’d seen the gesture done before and always wanted to try it; with Vah’nya it just seemed appropriate. The warmth of his mouth met her cooler skin; he knew the temperature of Chiss ran a few degrees below that of the warm humans. 

His eyes met hers, curious and cautious, watching the intermittent light from the orbs pass lazily over the smooth grooves of her facial features, the only sound the gentle breathing coming from the sleeping children. Her eyes closed as she leaned into the hand cupping her cheek and he barely dared to breath, expecting her to change her mind and pull away at any second. 

But she didn’t. She leaned _in._

And then he was kissing her in the near dark, in the near silence.

A strand of her dark hair fell from behind her ear and brushed against his cheek, making him jump. She pulled away briefly, chuckling, and tucked it gracefully back in place before her fingers carded through the short hairs at the base of his skull, pulling his face closer to hers as their lips parted.

It was Ezra who let out the softest of moans when their tongues met, cautious at first until a gentle tug of his bottom lip turned tentative into purposeful real quick and he leaned into the kiss even more, wrapping an arm around her waist and flicking his tongue against the sharp edges of her teeth. 

When she pulled back he followed, chasing her mouth to taste her again, and pressed his lips against her smiling ones.

He retreated, feeling a little like an overzealous teenager.

“You are shaking,” she whispered.

Their free hands had intertwined, fingers bound in a loose grip to where the slight tremor in them could be felt.

“It’s been a while,” he answered honestly with a nervous grin. 

She squeezed his hand. “I’ve been thinking about earlier.”

He frowned; she had been _thinking?_ During that entire time she processed something other than the sensation of their tongues sliding over each other? Because he sure hadn’t. The blush that colored his pale cheeks was impossible to hide from her. It was too faint to be detected by the human eye in the dark, but merely second nature for a Chiss. 

“I know that Eli doesn’t want to put any of the navigators’ at risk,” she was saying, “but there’s got to be something we can try. Or maybe…”

Ezra continued to watch and listen as she thought out loud, pulling her hand from his in order to retrieve her questis.

As if he suddenly remembered his attention was supposed to be divided, his eyes snapped to the spheres floating in the air. Relief washed over him. They had stopped revolving, but they hadn’t crashed to the ground. It had worked out better than he’d hoped! With a sidelong glance to Vah’nya, who was already brainstorming quietly what they might be able to rope Vanto into letting them try, he confirmed: a lot better than he’d hoped, indeed.  



	17. Chapter 17

The official office space Vanto had been given was upstairs, inconveniently located to the rest of the navigators’ sector. Therefore, he preferred the cramped, windowless tech office to the expansive one assigned to him by Ar’alani. Ezra had learned to check here first.

He walked in through the opened door, to spot Vanto hunched over a terminal, fully immersed in data computations and muttering to himself.

“What are you mumbling about in here?” Ezra asked, good-naturedly. It had been days since the argument in the commander’s office and while no follow-up conversation had taken place, things were cordial between all three participants. 

Without looking up, Vanto pointed to the screen. “This.”

Ezra took a step closer, curiosity getting the better of him. Before noticing the numbers on the screen, he noticed the five empty cups of caf scattered across Vanto’s small desk and the crumbs that were likely from a _co’coa_ muffin. 

Ezra looked at the mess with distaste and made a face. “Ya know, you should really keep your work space-”

Vanto’s gaze didn't leave his screen. “Please don't lecture me on cleanliness. Yesterday I saw you eating yapels off the floor while doing handstands.”

“What, they’re good-”

“Look at this,” Vanto said, ignoring him. He zoomed in, pointing to the screen. “What do you make of it?”

Ezra leaned in. “What is it?”

“Results from Un’hee’s tracker.”

Ezra retreated an inch. “You put a tracking device on the child?”

Vanto finally glanced up at him, frowning as if the idea was absurd. “Not for tracking her location, a device to monitor the decline, or incline, of sensitivity.” he turned back. “Look here…”

Squinting to look where the commander was pointing, Ezra saw what had him so caught up. “Interesting,” he muttered. “What was going on?”

Vanto tapped a few keys to bring up the time log. “Um… it was right before midday meal.” He let out a frustrated sigh, rocking back casually in his chair, thinking out loud. “What happened right before then?” 

Ezra leaned against the desk, folding his arms across his chest. “Yesterday? Um, I think...”

“What?”

“Yeah,” Ezra said slowly, nodding as he recalled. Then he ducked his head, suddenly finding it very difficult to meet the Commander’s gaze. “Yeah, I _specifically_ remember…”

Vanto frowned, cocking his head to the side.

“I specifically remember because you, uh… uh-”

_“Walked in on you and Vah’nya,”_ Vanto said, smiling. “Yes, I do recall now.”

The only thing that kept Ezra in the room was the simple fact that Vanto couldn’t see into the infrared. It was bad enough that the Commander had caught him lip-locked with his new girlfriend; he really didn’t need to be flung any shit for it. 

But Vanto only chuckled and Ezra couldn’t help smile a little in relief.

“Speaking of Vah’nya,” Ezra murmured, feeling this may be the best time and a good segway. “And your office the other day.”

Brown eyes met vivid blue and Ezra swallowed. “I just want you to know… I’m not trying to ruin what you have here. And I apologize for… stepping on your toes.”

“I know that,” the Commander said, with warmth and kind compassion. “And… my apartment informed me of what it had told you.” His gaze softened. “I am not mad at you, Ezra.”

Ezra hadn’t known the impact those words would have until Vanto had said them. Maybe it was the use of his name, or Vanto’s sincere disposition, but Ezra felt as though the weight of a small bantha had been lifted from his shoulders. 

Vanto smiled at him. “Let’s just try to find a middle ground, sound good?”

Ezra nodded, then pointed with his chin towards the terminal. “Can I see that?” 

“Sure,” Vanto said, rising from his seat and allowing Ezra to take his place. “What do you see?”

“I just…” Ezra peered closer, shaking his head. “I mean, I can’t be sure but… I think what you’ve been tracking are midi-chlorians.”

“Midi-what?”

Ezra smiled. “Midi-chlorians. Um... basically Sight on a cellular level. They reside within everyone, but some people have higher counts, hence how abilities manifest in some but not in others.”

“Huh.” Vanto said. “Ok, is there a way to harvest them?”

Ezra swallowed. “Some think there are.” He really didn’t want to go down that road. “I’m just… I’m hesitant to believe that’s what we’re looking at because... I never knew they could do that.”

“Do what?”

Ezra pointed. “Fluctuate like that. Or at least, their strength does? I don’t know.”

They both paused, thinking. 

“Whatever is going on with them,” Ezra said, looking up at Vanto from his chair. “I think this,” he pointed to the screen, then froze in dawning realization.

Vanto stared at him, expectantly waiting for him to finish. “This…?”

Ezra’s pointer finger swiveled around to Vanto. “You.”

Vanto stood up straight, eyebrows raised. “Me?”

“I mean, it could be nothing,” Ezra said with an off-handed shrug. “But… ok, Force-sensitive younglings, back in the day, were taken from their families to join the Jedi Order. It wasn't... the wisest decision, from what I've been told. It’s interesting how the CDF does that as well.”

“And?” 

Ezra shook his head, turning back to the console. “I mean, in most cases, tearing a child away from their family is not a good idea. Especially when they’re what… five? Old enough to remember what happened. And how likely is it that they find their birth parents again?”

“Unless they hack into CDF files, not likely,” Vanto retorted. “It is not… _encouraged_ to return to one's birth family.”

Ezra was nodding, imagining the various issues that might arise from that. 

“But in Vah’nya’s case,” Ezra hesitated. Vah’nya had explained to Ezra that she’d been given to the CDF by a Ruling Family in order to ensure their political gain. He wasn’t sure if the Commander knew about that.

Vanto urged him on with a gentle wave of his hand. “Yes, I know. Go on.”

“Well,” Ezra paused. “The CDF has been the family she chose to have. I know it sounds crazy, but the Force works in mysterious ways.”

“Ok, then what about Un’hee?”

Ezra just smiled, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he looked up at him. “Un’hee has you.”

The hard lines of Vanto’s expression smoothed out for a moment. 

“You’re the first real protector she remembers,” Ezra explained. “Although how you managed to get her on Thrawn’s side-”

“Thrawn was there at the beginning,” Vanto told him quietly. “He was there when we rescued her.”

Ezra smiled. “Well, then.” A moment's pause before Ezra spoke softly. “I know it’s not an answer and we may never have one, but it’s a start. Like I said, it could be nothing.” 

Vanto grinned. “But it could be something.”

Their eyes met and Ezra smiled back. “Yeah, it could be something.”

//

The datacard had to be around here somewhere. He’d sworn he put it right beside his bag on the sideboard when he walked in the night before, and he couldn’t leave home this morning without it. He rummaged through the drawers, pushing flimsy-files and hard datadiscs around in his haste. 

_“…your last comm channel because well… I don’t know where else to send it.”_

Eli jumped at the sound of his own voice and quickly grabbed for the forgotten device. He switched it off with a push of a button. 

It was… his message. What was Thrawn still doing with it? Being nostalgic?

His eyes widened at the number of times the message had been replayed. Definitely more than enough times for someone to get the gist. And the last playback was… 

Eli’s jaw went slack just as Thrawn came around the corner. The Chiss’ mouth was set in a hard line, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. 

“Are you – ” he froze when he realized what Eli was holding.

The human turned the device over in his palm, blatantly confused. “Why do you still have this?”

It seemed to take a moment for Thrawn to register the question. “It is mine.” 

Eli raised the device to emphasize. “They can _track_ you with this,” he said, astonished. 

“They cannot,” Thrawn replied evenly.

Eli shook his head, arguing, “Devices like this get tapped all the time. If not the Imperials, the Chiss –”

“No one is listening in on our conversations, Eli.”

The entryway fell silent as Eli struggled to accept that, because apparently Thrawn just expected him to do so.

“Ok, then… why do you still have it?”

Thrawn just stared at him. Both of Eli’s eyebrows arched up in question while he waited patiently for an answer. 

“I will answer that,” the Chiss began softly. “If you answer a question of mine, first.”

Eli scoffed. Did he think this was some sort of game? But the longer he stared, the more Eli realized that Thrawn wasn’t joking. Eli gestured for him to continue, tamping down his irritation and refraining from glancing at the chrono. At this point he was going to be late.

“Your message,” Thrawn said, inclining his head toward the device. “You sounded upset.”

Eli ‘bout rolled his eyes. _Seriously?_

“I _was_ upset, and tired. We’d been looking for you for months. _I_ had been -”

“I understand,” Thrawn said kindly, “and I will not presume to know how that felt.”

Eli’s shoulders fell. “Then why does it matter, Thrawn?”

“You agreed to answer my question before I answered yours.”

“You haven’t asked me -”

“Why?” 

Eli’s mouth snapped shut. 

“Why did you omit your reasoning for staying in the Ascendancy? Why did your voice shake when you told me who you were? Why did you sound…” he paused, “compromised?” He held his gaze even as Eli felt the heat rise in his cheeks. “I want to know why.”

Eli shook his head, crossing his arms defiantly over his chest. His gaze landed on every object in the room except for Thrawn’s face, unable to look him in the eye. His voice lost a considerable amount of gusto when he finally spoke. It was soft now, unsure. “We already talked about this,” he reasoned. “You said yourself - I had a mission and it was - I was failing.” He swallowed, hard. “Do you have any idea how many times I comm’d Ar’alani to tell her I _hadn’t_ found you?”

“That must have been difficult-”

Eli opened his mouth to enlighten the stubborn Chiss as to just how difficult it had been to make those calls. To pretend, in front of a child, that there was still hope of finding him. To move on to the next outpost, the next checkpoint, the next planet, and not lose hope. 

“-but that is not it,” Thrawn murmured softly.

The truth froze Eli where he stood and stole the fabricated explanation right from his mouth. He remained silent, aside from the small huff of disbelief that escaped through his nose. Of course Thrawn would deduce there was something _beneath_ it all, some greater meaning to Eli’s surmised affliction. He debated storming from the room, but after playing out the likely sequence of events in his mind, decided that a temper tantrum would be futile. 

Thrawn stepped forward until there was only a foot of distance between them, eyes boring into his with laser focus as he towered over him. “Is it?”

“I suppose you find it alright to just assume-” 

“By all means… tell me what _it is.”_

Eli had made a promise to himself before he’d known if Thrawn was even alive that he would tell him the truth when he got the chance. He’d hedged and deflected for months now because if Thrawn didn’t feel the same way – 

“Tell me what _this_ is,” Thrawn pressed into his thoughts, with the same steady intensity as when he stood on the bridge of a warship and demanded weapons fire. “Answer me.”

Eli’s gaze finally, reluctantly, found his and he realized that although Thrawn’s tone commanded the truth, there was more to it than that. Eli had never known Thrawn to be desperate before – he wasn’t even sure he would call it that now – but his red eyes glittered with the need to _know,_ to understand, to collect and deduce and thrive on information, as he always did. Even when he already knew the truth.

Eli’s admission wasn’t really one at all.

“You know why.”

Eli saw that he was right when Thrawn dipped his chin in a minute nod. And now there was nothing left to do but wait for Thrawn’s reply.

“I kept the transponder-”

A shrill two-toned alert pinged from Eli’s comm and after a staggered moment of clouded disorientation, reality came rushing back and he hurriedly reached for the device without a second glance toward Thrawn.

“I have to go,” he muttered, almost regretfully after reading the message. “Ar’alani needs me...”

Eli raised his eyes, his gaze pained and uncertain. The moment seemed to stretch into unreal time as he tried to guess what Thrawn might be thinking. 

“Thrawn-”

“I understand,” Thrawn reassured him, followed by the smallest of smiles. “I will be here when you return, as always.”

Warmth blossomed in Eli’s chest. At least that was something.  



	18. Chapter 18

“Eli, you have a visitor,” Vah’nya said softly, the undisguised gravity in her tone instantly turning the light-hearted mood somber. 

“More like a stalker,” Ezra chimed in as he strode past, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. “He’s been here for an hour waiting for you.”

Un’hee’s eyes shot wide, mouthing ‘oh no.’ Vah’nya crossed her arms, expression tight. She was not happy with him being here, either.

“Alright, calm down,” Eli said, focusing the group back on the task at hand. He’d already noticed the older man donned in burgundy robes standing patiently with his guards in the corner. Eli was more concerned about how he had managed to acquire the codes to enter this sector more than he was his actual presence. He suppressed a sigh. And of course he’d chosen today to appear after Eli had just come from a meeting with the Admiral and had barely had time to gulp down half a cup of lukewarm caf, and after dealing with this morning’s little fiasco...

“Eli, are you alright?”

He locked gazes with Vah'nya for a brief moment before nodding, gripping her forearm in reassurance as he stepped around her to make his way over to Thurfian. 

“Patriarch,” he greeted smoothly.

“Good afternoon, Commander.” 

“To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Thurfian hummed, a gracious smile appearing across his face. “A friendly visit, I assure you. Nothing more.”

His eyes flashed over Eli’s shoulder. The human knew what he was seeing. 

Un’hee.

Ezra.

Vah’nya.

_Prizes._

He took a small step to his left, drawing the Patriarch’s attention back to him and blocking the others from view. The man chose to ignore this, and lifted his chin in a pretentious display of privilege. “However, I was under the impression that the last time we spoke you understood the importance of finding Mitth’raw’nuruodo.”

Eli’s eyebrow rose. “I never disagreed-”

“You stopped looking.”

Eli fought the urge to swallow, knowing the Patriarch would interpret that as a sign of discomfort and weakness. 

“You were friends with him, were you not?” He didn’t give Eli a chance to answer. “I suppose I assumed as much given he sent you halfway across the galaxy.”

“We were colleagues,” Eli corrected. 

Thurfian hummed with false thoughtfulness. “Still, it must eat at you.”

Eli willed himself to keep eye contact with the other man but it became more difficult with each passing second. This wasn’t a test like before. He was being openly scrutinized, because Thurfian already knew. He must’ve. And Thrawn was at home, waiting for Eli to return so they...

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“The guilt; in giving up the search for him,” Thurfian explained with a most sardonic grin. “Ar’alani has been hell bent on finding him. You are our most qualified officer for the job and yet… you’ve given up?”

Eli cleared his throat. “I’m assuming you haven’t ever met Thrawn?” he asked, mostly just to see the man bristle. “Because if you had, you’d know every action of his was backed by unbeatable logic. He wouldn’t condone wasting time on the search for him if there were no leads. I'm conducting what would be the most important project to him, for the betterment of the Ascendancy. It is what he would want.”

Thurfian’s eyes narrowed, quick enough that Eli thought maybe he’d imagined it, but the chill in the Chiss’s cultured voice told him he hadn’t. “Interesting.” Thurfian leaned in closer so only they could hear his words. “And yet, it was only recently that the smallest inkling of his whereabouts sent you scurrying across the Chaos.”

Eli stood his ground, the mocking nature of the man’s words causing a near L8 eruption within his very being. “Priorities change, Patriarch.”

Thurfian smirked and Eli felt the blood drain from his face. “Not _that_ much. Good day, Eli’van’to.”

Clenching his fists tightly behind his back, he watched as the other man strode away, mouthing a curse. He glanced over his shoulder at Ezra and Vah’nya, talking softly together in the corner. The human lifted a hand to tuck a strand of fallen hair tenderly behind her ear, which she made no move to dissuade and even caught his hand as he lowered it. 

Eli then caught Un’hee’s eye, staring at him from across the room. He gave her his best smile, but even he knew he hadn’t fooled the child, and he certainly hadn’t fooled the Patriarch. 

//

With regard to learning more about the sky-walkers undiscovered talents, there was very little that Eli could do on a ship that he couldn’t do on the ground. He’d decided that exact excuse would be his argument if and when the Admiral ever challenged him on it.

He knew it was only a matter of time until she would ask if he ever planned to pick up the search for Thrawn. Since he hadn’t requested a shuttle for said purpose - and if he wasn’t going to go gallivanting off into the unknown - she’d expect him on the _Steadfast_ when it departed in two days to bring the Imperials’ home. The moment he received her summons and was called into her planetside office in downtown Csaplar, he knew why his presence had been requested. 

What Eli found odd, however, was that he’d just had a meeting with the Admiral that morning at the citadel to discuss the navigators. Why she hadn’t mentioned whatever she wanted to discuss with him now at _that_ time, was beyond him. 

He concocted a fool proof argument for his decision by the time he arrived, staring out the turbolift window at the many twinkling lights of the above ground city as he rose the many levels to her temporary office. 

When she asked him what exactly his plan was, he kept his expression neutral and composed. Her gaze turned curious as he explained, her eyes narrowed ever so slightly in question. 

When he was finished speaking, he expected her to respond.

When she didn’t, he spoke up hesitantly. “Is there anything-”

“No,” she interrupted him, keeping her rigid gaze on him. “I only assumed you’d wish to return to the field.”

“Ah,” Eli said, nodding. Under normal circumstances, he would. “Well, with what we’ve discovered-”

She suddenly became very busy, shuffling about her desk, pulling a flimsy-file and a questis from the drawer, seeming to ignore him. He fell silent, waiting for her to be finished with her distractions. 

When she stilled, he tried again, just to be sure he hadn’t been unceremoniously dismissed. Was she upset with him? “Since Bridger has decided to remain in the Ascendancy, there is much-”

“That is all, Commander.” Ar’alani said with a wave of dismissal. 

“Admiral?”

She finally met his gaze and purposefully lowered her questis to the desk, steepling her fingers before her, red eyes burning into his. She took a deep breath and he held his.

“I am going to pretend… that you are not lying to me, Commander,” she said in a near-whisper. His throat tightened and he stared, dumbfounded.

“You can continue with your work at the citadel,” she granted, almost under her breath it was said so low. “I will not demand that you return to the _Steadfast_ when we depart, and I will inform the necessary people that the search for Mitth’raw’nuruodo has been… indefinitely postponed.”

“By ‘necessary people’ do you mean Patriarch Mitth’urf’ianico?”

After a moment's hesitation she gave a brief nod. 

“We spoke and for the _seventh_ time, he asked when you were being sent out again. I will inform him that continuing the search is futile and a waste of resources. I will do my best to make him see the sense in that.”

Eli doubted that he would, but nodded anyway.

“You realize, Commander,” the Admiral continued. “Requests from the Head of a Ruling Family are rarely denied.”

“I understand, ma’am.”

“Never mind protocols, or regulations,” she added. “They get what they want, especially someone as politically astute as Thurfian.”

Eli nodded. He’d gathered that by the man’s unexpected appearance within the navigators’ sector this morning. 

“You must be…” she paused, a glint in her eye. “Better.”

He bristled. 

_Better? At what?_

“If you are to convince him.”

_Of what?_

She cleared her throat. “I will not be here to cover for you. The _Steadfast_ will depart in two days time. This is your last chance. Will you be on it?”

His mouth hung open, eyes frantically flashing between hers. It was killing him not to ask what she had chosen to ‘pretend’ was not happening but he figured, if she really knew the truth, he was pushing his luck enough as it was already.

Her mouth finally twitched in what he’d grown to recognize as a hidden smile. “I thought not.”

Did remaining silent make him more suspicious? 

Did not defending himself raise a red flag?

_Absolutely._

But what other choice did he have?

“Very well, Ivant,” she said with some finality.

He stood to leave. 

“Ivant, one more thing.”

He turned to face his Admiral, settling automatically and comfortably into parade rest as he did so. 

She stood. “If this is the path you choose, and you plan to remain planetside.” Her eyes glittered. “We have a job for you.”

To his surprise, the door behind him opened with a hiss and he spun around to face a man he’d only ever heard of. 

“General Mak’ro,” Ar’alani said in greeting, motioning toward Eli. “Commander Ivant. I do not believe the two of you have been introduced.” She then paused and pointedly turned to face the General. “We were right.”

Alarm prickled at the base of Eli’s spine. A wave of anxiety crashed over him and he suddenly felt very warm. He stood taller as Ar’alani passed directly in front of him to greet the other man. 

She must’ve caught his dumbfounded expression because she regarded him next. “I’ve known you far too long, Ivant. Surely you didn’t think you could hide anything from me.”

Eli licked his lips and fought the urge to look away. He’d asked himself time and time again if he was _really_ that obvious. Apparently, he was. 

“Well I can’t say I’m surprised” Mak’ro told Ar’alani in a hushed tone. “We knew he’d find a way.”

“He always does.”

“Have you asked him?”

“Not yet.”

“Excuse me,” Eli interjected with a tone that indicated he refused to be ignored. He had done everything that had been asked of him at every turn while being here. Now, he felt he was owed an explanation as to what the _hell_ was going on.

The other male regarded him with a crude smile. Mak’ro was younger than what Eli would imagine a General might be. The rugged nobility that radiated from him suggested his idea of fairness might be a little… skewed. “I have a proposition for you, Commander. One I think you’d be a fool to turn down.”

Eli lifted his chin. “I will be happy to hear it, and take it into consideration for myself, of course.”

Mak’ro’s hearty laugh filled the room. “Of course you will.”

The three of them convened around Ar’alani’s desk and Eli listened to the General’s proposal. The details were clear, the options laid out before him. He’d always known it would come to this. Everything, _especially_ on Csilla, revolved around political games and strategies. 

In the end, he agreed. 

“Are you ready?”

Eli nodded. He was starving and his head had been pounding for the last half hour and in the back of his mind he kept thinking about Thrawn, waiting for him at home…

This day was far from over.

The door hissed open and the General waved in the Aristocra from the Ufsa and Irizi Families. 

And the game was afoot.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you haven't noticed ... I have a goal for this weekend. X"D There is a certain something that needs to happen and I'm determined to get to that point. Soooo... the next chapter will most likely (barring any major catastrophes) be up tomorrow. <3


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, Thrawn POV chapters seem to be the most fun to write. I hope y’all enjoy this one!!

_“When your eyes met mine,  
my soul pointed at you and whispered to my heart,_  
'Him.’” _\- LR_

  
As he did every evening when Eli arrived home, Thrawn heard the door rattle before he heard the sound of Eli’s unique cadence against the hardwoods. He had made no extravagant evening meal tonight, had no mind-altering beverages available for either of them. There would be no skirting around the topic tonight, no excuse to evade the subject. A discussion was in order and Thrawn had had enough of waiting.

He couldn’t resist; he’d replayed Eli’s message again. Twice. As per usual he’d registered the hitch, the stumble, the hesitation and the subtle hint of loss in the human’s voice. His suspicions had been proven, but they hadn’t resolved anything in his own heart — the ache worsened. 

After Eli had left that morning, Thrawn came to the conclusion that the other’s pained expression post admission was due to the simple fact that he thought Thrawn indifferent. That realization had left an aching gap in Thrawn’s chest the size of Csilla’s Cavern _Ek’klan._ It was a misunderstanding he was determined to rectify. 

That carbonite resolve, that unshakable confidence he’d grounded himself in over the last few hours slipped, just a little, when he finally laid eyes on Eli, somehow seeing him now as though he was seeing him for the first time. The man in front of him was no longer hiding. There was nothing _to_ hide. That morning they had been given an opportunity and before a deflection or reversal of that opportunity occurred, Thrawn planned to implement every tactic he knew to suss out the full truth. His strategies were solid; he knew Eli better than anyone. But when the other man strode around the corner, Thrawn swore whoever stood before him now was not the same man who had left him – heart and mind reeling – that morning. Thrawn stood from his usual spot on the couch when Eli stepped into the living space, the quick succession of his footsteps slowing before coming to a complete halt before him. 

Thrawn thought he’d planned and prepared for everything; for every honest statement or defensive quip. He’d had all day to ruminate on what the human might say and formulate his own confessions and rebuttals. To be honest, this conversation had played in his mind more times than he cared to admit over the course of the last couple months and, at this point, he felt he was ready for anything. 

He miscalculated.

He hadn’t prepared for this.

Eli’s gaze was tentative and a little skeptical as Thrawn looked him over, gleaning what he could from his physical appearance alone. But there was more, and instead of pushing Eli for details, he waited. Wordlessly, Eli pulled out his pocketed device and handed Thrawn the questis so that he could scan the document displayed on the screen. 

Thrawn read the doc once. And again — slower the second time. 

The official script. The signatures. The rank. The _name._

Thrawn couldn’t bring himself to be pleased by what he saw. Protection such as this was awarded to only a select few from outside the Families and there was always a greater reason as to why.

“Interesting.”

Eli blinked up at him. “You don’t find it agreeable?”

That wasn’t it at all. In fact, the idea was very, very appealing to Thrawn. But the reason behind this decision was a political one, he knew. His eyes lingered on the family seal in the bottom right hand corner of the document. Eli was a human among the Chiss, a prize and oddity. Which meant his role was already precarious and potentially problematic. Now, he would most certainly always be looking over his shoulder. 

The fact of the matter, and the one that Thrawn had grown to despise but found admirably _relentless,_ was that politics were impossible to avoid and unwise to ignore. 

“I am sure they are pleased.”

“I didn’t do it for them,” Eli said strongly. “It was the only way to ensure no harm comes to me, or that I won’t be shipped back with the others.”

Politics. Bribes and blackmail. 

Thrawn lowered his gaze. “I am sorry, Eli.”

“Sorry?” Eli barked. “I’m promoted and made a ranking distant and you say ‘sorry?’ Stars, Thrawn. You could at least _pretend_ to be happy for me.”

“Happy? Eli…” he trailed off, fighting his frustration at the situation. Pausing to take a deep breath, he chose a different path. “You are more than deserving of a promotion, Eli. You have…” Thrawn found himself unsure how to express what he truly meant. “You have sacrificed more than what should have been asked of you. Probably you’re the most deserving man I know. But you are _wrong._ You assume that because I refuse to be happy you are being exploited implies that I am not proud of you? Of the life you’ve built for yourself? Of everything you have accomplished without me?” He let out a soft chuckle and held up the questis. “You are wrong, Mitth’eli’vanto.”

Theliva did not lower his gaze in embarrassment. His complexion did not flare in the visible spectrum. So many times he’d shied away from Thrawn’s praises. Now he accepted them, because he knew he deserved them.

The Chiss’ eyes fell to the tiled insignia plaque adorning his chest. 

_Senior Captain._

The rank Thrawn had renounced when he left the Ascendancy with the goal of learning all he could about the Empire. One step below Commodore, when Theliva’s family affiliation would make no difference anyway. Absentmindedly, he extended his arm and ran a thumb lightly over the insignia, pinned just so to the Captain’s chest. 

With a flicker of surprise at his own audacity — one was not permitted to touch another’s rank plaque — he dropped his hand away. Only for it to be caught firmly in an iron grip.

“You knew,” Mitth’eli’vanto accused in a low tone with his fingers wrapped tightly around Thrawn’s forearm. His hand felt chilled, likely from being outside in the freezing cold. 

Thrawn frowned. “Of your promotion? I did not—”

“S’not what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.” 

Theliva’s words were spoken in Basic, a detail that seemed to occur most often when the human was feeling particularly passionate. Thrawn found him exceptionally intriguing when expressing any type of emotion, something so distinct to his species and yet so wonderfully unique to him. Theliva stepped closer to him so that the tips of his boots butted up against Thrawn’s. “This morning.” He elaborated. “You already knew.”

Thrawn knew he was expected to answer, but in his honest opinion, it didn’t so much matter if he had or hadn’t known of Theliva’s feelings. Standing here now, lost in the depths of his russet colored eyes and swarthy skin-tone, there could be no doubt. There was, however, an uncertainty that needed clarifying, information that Thrawn deemed essential — results from a test of time and space, of circumstance and distance. 

”Out of sight, out of mind” was a human expression, but so was “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” It wasn’t until Thrawn had heard Theliva’s voice in his message that his own feelings had been realized. His question now was when that had occurred for Theliva. 

“How long?” Thrawn asked. 

The crease in the human’s forehead disappeared, his expression relaxed and his humor shone through. 

_“How long?”_ he repeated, huffing out a laugh. “Honestly Thrawn, it happened so many years ago I don’t remember a time when I haven’t loved-”

And that was all Thrawn needed to know.

He kissed him, capturing Theliva’s mouth with his own and interrupting the man’s confession all together. It didn’t really matter, not now. Not anymore. What mattered now was that they had been wasting time; precious time they never seemed to have enough of. And Thrawn was bound and determined not to waste a _single second more._

The strength of Theliva’s grip on his forearm increased, but other than that they remained motionless, lips locked, hearts pounding. They pulled apart, breathing in the crisp clarity of reality, soaking in this moment and their long-awaited coalescence.

Theliva’s eyes were alive with nothing Thrawn had ever seen. They dropped hungrily to the other’s mouth, tongue slipping out to wet his lips. Thrawn gathered Theliva was holding back by the flicker of teetering desire in his dark eyes and when he bit down on his lower lip, a hot wave of arousal broke over Thrawn like a molten sea and he wondered: what else made him bite his lip like that?

Their foreheads met briefly to relish this new closeness before continuing, before tasting each other again. Thrawn had never known relief to be so sweet or taste so good. His ever-calculating mind continued to whirl, analyze, refine, but the incessant buzzing was promptly silenced by a sharp intake of breath and Theliva deciding they’d revelled long enough. 

Thrawn had not known how the other man would kiss. He’d considered it, many times. He’d thought about it while watching him from across the dining room table or while leaning over the game board with that look of pleasant contemplation. Sometimes he was alone, and sometimes he was standing right in front of him, but he had not _known_ how this would go. Discovering was quite possibly the most satisfying information Thrawn had ever had the privilege of filing away. He pressed forward, teeth scraping. At the same time Theliva dug his nails into the musculature of Thrawn’s forearm, pulling him nearer as warm, wet lips moved like soft silk over his. The Chiss found himself wondering why in the Seven Hells of Csilla it had taken them this long. Why it had taken _him_ this long to discern what Theliva had perceived for years. 

The human indulged himself, pressing his tongue into his mouth and what little control remained hanging by a thread snapped in half and Thrawn _moaned._ He had never been a particularly vocal man, especially when it came to acts of intimacy – which, if he had to admit, had mostly been solo affairs simply for the purpose of stress reduction - but somehow Theliva had pulled that _sound_ from his chest. He felt the other’s chuckle against his lips but he couldn’t bring himself to care as his own tongue wrestled with the others. 

Theliva’s grip on Thrawn’s forearm never let up, eventually guiding Thrawn’s arms around his waist before tugging at his own undershirt to gain more slack so he could reach up unhindered to wrap his arms around Thrawn’s neck. They merged, melting into the warm embrace like two icicles wilting in the heat of the sun. Thrawn perceived exactly what the other desired – reading his cues as easily as if they were Rentor’s dialect of Cheunh – settling his palms against the gentle curve of his back, fisting a handful of his brown hair in his hand, pulling the front of his body flush with his. There were some reactions – no matter the species – that were universal in regards to arousal. 

Thrawn released his hair, retreating an inch in hopes of slowing this down, just a little. Theliva didn’t get the hint, pulling playfully at the waistband of Thrawn’s trousers.

“Eli,” he muttered, catching his groan before it escaped as Theliva’s tongue traced his lower lip. Thrawn had no intention of progressing this tonight, and encouraging Theliva wouldn’t work to his benefit. There was more information to collect.

Theliva groaned in response to the sound of his name and unlatched his mouth from Thrawn’s to kiss up the column of his throat, teasing at the delicate skin below his ear, the heat of his breath against his neck. 

“Eli,” Thrawn repeated in his gentlest tone as he broke out in blue, pebbled skin from another gentle nip to the fluttering pulse in his neck.

The human retreated, absentmindedly smoothing Thrawn’s tousled strands at the base of his skull to lay them flat. The Chiss’ eyes drifted shut of their own volition at the soothing sensation. 

“Why’d we stop?” Theliva whispered, reluctant to even ask, brown eyes still hidden. “Is it… or just…”

“Everything I had not dared to hope for.” 

Theliva’s eyes flung wide, oscillating between both of his before calming to settle on a single one. He blinked, expression softening and he chuckled, recovering. “It took you long enough.”

“Too long,” Thrawn acknowledged, losing himself in the human’s gaze, in the warm pools of deep chestnut with flecks the color of Csilla’s cool, summer sun sprinkled throughout. 

In the beginning, out of necessity, Thrawn had entrusted Eli Vanto with his words, relinquishing command of his immediate future despite their lack of familiarity. Now, Mitth’eli’vanto was the only being to ever command his heart and soul without his conscious awareness. This exquisite, lovely thing had bloomed with little to no effort from him, for it had come without due warning and despite the decade previously spent together — he hadn’t stood a chance. 

“But I assure you,” he breathed. “I am no less sincere.”

Theliva’s eyes lit up and before Thrawn could become distracted by that, he jumped on the opportunity and looped back around to his train of thought before the other man had derailed it. “How did it happen?” 

“Huh? Oh… um… Thurfian.”

As if he’d been zapped with a bolt of lightning, Thrawn jerked and straightened, suddenly on full alert as if expecting an attack. “Excuse me?”

Theliva was still blinking the leftover haze from his eyes, his mind clearing enough to realize that he should probably start from the top. “Well, the Irizi and Ufsa Families. Um… one offered me merit adoptive and the other offered me trial born, so naturally-”

“Competition.”

Theliva hummed as he lowered himself to the couch, sinking into the welcoming cushions. Thrawn settled in beside him, tucking a knee beneath him and draping an arm across the back of the furniture. 

“And yet you are Mitth.”

Theliva swallowed. Perhaps that knowledge hadn’t fully sunk in yet. 

“Thurfian got word of the ‘secret meeting’,” he explained. “He sent your brother. Probably thought a Speaker would have more pull than an Aristocra—”

“Thrass,” Thrawn stated. “Recruited you for the Mitth?”

“Technically I think it was Thurfian who pushed him to do so.”

Thrawn growled. He knew the human was irresistible to the Patriarch. 

“Ok then, just Thrass,” Theliva remarked cautiously. “Why are you so upset?”

“Because of who is behind it, Eli.”

“I understand your concern,” Theliva retorted. “But _I’m_ not worried about it. Ar’alani and Mak’ro, they…”

Thrawn’s eyebrows rose in question.

“Well,” Theliva murmured. “There is… something else.”

A tilt of Thrawn’s head was the only indication of his confusion when he noted the human’s hesitation. 

Theliva sighed. “There’s something they want me to do.”

Thrawn felt the storm swirling in his gut, dark and ominous.

“They think Thurfian is extorting the other Families.”

Thrawn’s eyes narrowed, almost in disbelief but Theliva knew the expression leaned more toward suspicion. “In what way?”

Theliva shrugged. “An assortment of illegalities, apparently. Pillaging land, embezzling funds, blackmailing recruits. Mak’ro even mentioned something about the distribution of weapons.” The human ran a hand through his hair. “He’s stealing from them all, in some capacity. Or sabotaging their resources. Do you know the Mitth have risen three positions in a single year?” 

Thrawn remained silent.

The Captain let out a heavy, defeated sigh as he leaned back against the couch cushions, eyelids drooping with fatigue. The fabric of his shirt bunched up around his shoulders and neck when he did so. With one hand he unlatched the cervical clasp around his slender neck and used the other to remove his rank plaque from his tunic, tossing it on the caf table. “It’s all a bunch of Family drama.”

Thrawn’s typical calm had a frigid chill to it. “That you are now involved in.” Their eyes met briefly. “So what is their plan?” Thrawn asked with a deep frown. Of course it would be the brave, kind-hearted, determined human their leaders would rely on to do the grunt work. “To have you spy on a Patriarch of a Ruling Family? Put you at risk of discovery? Have you convicted if you are found out? You will be charged with treason. Exile will not be an option for you.”

Theliva hesitated, and then shrugged. “He can’t really hurt me as a ranking distant. That was… pivotal.”

“I do not foresee you having the tactical advantage in this, Eli,” Thrawn grumbled. 

“It’s not like you haven’t ever put others at risk for the success of _your_ plans, myself included.” 

Thrawn winced, trying not to feel wounded by the careless comment. The instant, visible regret on the human’s face mirrored his own. It had been years since the incident, and he’d never told Theliva how much it had unsettled him to purposefully placed him in danger, even if he had been relatively safe by Thrawn's calculations, and even if the results had justified the decision. Thrawn supposed, looking back on it now, the unease that he’d felt at the time made all the sense in the galaxy. 

The Captain’s face fell into his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m just-"

Thrawn knew ‘tired’ was a gross understatement for the human. It had been an _unusually_ long day for him. “I understand.”

“I trust Ar’alani, Thrawn,” Theliva said with a passive gesture. “Mak’ro, I don’t know so much about, but he seemed alright. And Thrass… just so you know, he knows nothing. He’ll be safe.”

If he’d expected that to reassure the Chiss any, he was mistaken. The other’s scowl barely let up. 

“But will you be?”

Theliva had no honest answer to that so he remained silent, staring at the far wall of his main living quarters. They were quiet for a long time until the human muttered into the silence, “You don’t have to look out for me, Thrawn.”

Thrawn knew this, and with Theliva’s new position within the Family, it was the Mitth that would be looking out for him for the foreseeable future. But Thrawn was Mitth. And so was Thrass, and he could trust his brother… mostly. 

“I know, but it does not negate the will to do so.”

Theliva extended his arm, hand falling atop Thrawn’s, and tucked his fingers around the gentle curve of Thrawn’s fingers. His hand was warm now, fully thawed from the frigid elements. He smiled that same reassuring half-smile, but it did not mask his exhaustion. 

“You would benefit from an early sleep,” Thrawn suggested, twisting his wrist to take the other’s hand. “I will join you, if you wish.”

Theliva shot him a look.

Thrawn stared at him for a moment before murmuring almost apologetically, “Suppose I assumed-”

That made Theliva chuckle. “No, it’s fine. I just… haven’t eaten yet. I probably should.”

“I will make you something,” the Chiss replied, standing and pulling him to his feet. “Go. I will be in shortly.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for this chapter especially I wanted Eli’s name change to be more prominent. Who knows... I might end up just switching between it and 'Eli' interchangeably ~~accidentally~~ in future chapters. /shrug The way I pronounce his core name is Thel-ee-va. I tried another way and just like how ‘Invant’ is far too close to ‘Infant,’ the other pronunciation of ‘Theliva’ was much too close to ‘saliva.' X"D 
> 
> Thanks for reading! And if you have a moment to comment, I would love to hear your thoughts on the chapter or the lore in general! <3


End file.
